i am still finishing a different story, but will need to do some research in order to complete it accurately. in the meantime, this is about someone very special: my step-father, aka tommy boy.
tommy boy is an individual whom can only be described by the stories produced by him. thus, i am including here some old favorites, vignettes if you will.
the fire
tommy boy very much enjoys cleaning things with powerful chemicals. thoro and bleach are some of his favorites, but nothing compares with gasoline. one day, tommy boy decided to clean our gas stove-- with gasoline. as he was applying his gasoline-soaked rag to the range, a huge fireball shot through the kitchen. this explosion set the kitchen table, the floor, and tommy boy on fire. my mother was taking a nap when she heard tommy boy yelling for her to call the fire department. she did so. four firetrucks came to put out the blaze. no one was seriously injured although tommy boy's eyebrows and arm hair had been singed off. the kitchen linoleum however had gone to a bitter end.
the lawnmower
perhaps the only thing tommy boy enjoys as much as dangerous chemicals is mowing the lawn. tommy boy likes to mow the lawn while listening to his headphones on AM radio as loud as it goes. this is his main form of exercise as well, and thus very important for everyone involved. one day as tommy boy was mowing the lawn, something got stuck in the lawnmower. without hesitation, tommy boy reached in under the lawnmower to remove the offending item; however, as he had done so without turning the lawnmower off, he instead split his fingers on the lawnmower blades and had to be rushed to the emergency room.
the sewing machine
before retiring and while my mother and tommy boy were only dating, he owned a family shoe store and factory. in the factory section of his business, there were many sewing machines with large needles that were used to penetrate the leather of shoes. as he was having a conversation with my mother, he happened to put his hand down on the sewing machine. his hand, positioned right below the giant needle, was quickly punctured between his thumb and pointer finger. luckily, most at the hospital are quite familiar with tommy boy by now, and he received a warm welcome.
stay tuned. this is only the physical ailment section from before 1995.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
breach of privacy
in the summer of my sophomore year in college something quite interesting happened. it involved my first kiss, and an experiment which also happened to be a breach of privacy.
i was living in a beautiful house with my friends whom we'll call poprocks and delroxy. one night, poprocks and i were at a built to spill show and were really having a good time. suddenly there was a boy next to me who started a conversation. i had seem him around because of mutual friends, but what ended up being really strange was that he was my father's student. he and the other boy he was with were electrical engineering students at byu, and were currently taking classes from my father.
this wasn't the last we saw of these two boys, whom we'll call kimball and bucko. two days later, poprocks and i were pulling into the albertson's parking lot when she noticed that bucko was in the vehicle right behind us. he and a friend got out and followed us into the store. we said hi, and he invited us to hang out that night. thus began a few nights hanging out with kimball and bucko.
here was the tricky part: poprocks and i couldn't figure out what was going on. we knew that they liked us. but we didn't know if both liked both, or if one liked one, or both liked one...or what. here is an example of their behavior:
the original plan was that the four of us would hang out after kimball was done with his band practice. but bucko called before that and said that he and i could go out to get something to eat beforehand. skeptically, and confused, i agreed. while i was gone, kimball called the house and spoke with poprocks. he asked for me, but poprocks said i had gone with bucko for some food. kimball said, "she's with bucko? well...where are they?" (this behavior was especially confusing since it was practically verified that kimball had a girlfriend that was out of town for the summer.) perhaps the most confusing thing was the fact that they didn't seem to know what the other was thinking despite their friendship.
we simply didn't know what these boys were thinking. poprocks and i told the situation to our friend cicada. cicada is wise. she matter-of-factly asked, "why don't you tape record their private conversation?" poprocks and i looked at eachother. what??? uh, how would we do that? cicada succinctly explained that we merely needed to hide a running hand-held tape recorder in a car, take them both in the car somewhere where i would run a quick errand, leaving them in the car alone. she said it couldn't fail, that they would almost certainly start talking about me, and the whole situation.
the three of us ran to walmart immediately, it being about 1 am. i purchased a small hand-held taperecorder. the plan was going to work.
later that week i was at bucko's apartment with kimball, burning cds. since i drove a sweet '77 cadillac, getting them to want to ride in my car was easy. i told them we should run to albertson's (about a block away) so i could get some batteries and they could ride in the car. they agreed. i managed to get to my car a little ahead of them so i could turn on the tape recorder and hide it between the two front seats. everything went according to plan.
that night i listened to the tape. the first part was our conversation while driving to the store, but as soon as i had left to get the batteries, there was a brief silence, and then the dirt.
bucko: "dude, i feel like crap. you'll never believe what happened the night
before she knocked on my door..."
kimball: "girlfriend call?"
bucko: "yeah...basically. she called. she knew she was...like, i called tasha on sunday night like really late, like after kellyroxanne went home. she's like, 'what'd you do tonight?' and i'm just like, 'uh, nothing.' and she was like, she said she was figuring i was hanging out with kellyroxanne that night."
kimball: "how'd she know?"
bucko: "something clued her in. cause i said, 'nothing,' you know, and basically lied, and so she found out. and she was like, 'i gotta go, i gotta go.'
kimball: "she found out?"
bucko: "yeah, like, i told her right away that kellyroxanne was coming over, and she was like, 'i gotta go.' she kind of flipped out on me a little bit."
kimball: "did you tell her that i was over there too?"
bucko: "yeah, but she's just kind of having a hard time..."
kimball: (laughing awkwardly) "tell her i like her."
bucko: "she knows that i...kinda like her."
kimball: "does she know? did you tell her?"
bucko: "yeah...i told her i think she's really cool. she knows...i mean, just by saying, she knows i'm interested in the girl, i mean, you know? dude, it sucks, i'm almost like tempted to just can the whole thing just cause i don't want to put up with that, you know?"
kimball: "put up with...?"
bucko: "i don't want to have to deal with like tasha...being all bummed out and...i don't know. but like, what am i supposed to do, like when her missionary comes home, you know?"
kimball: "did you bring that one up?"
(inaudible muttering as i approach the car)
bucko: "...she is a weird-a** girl."
and that was the illegally obtained information we got. imagine my glee, shock, and amusement as i listened to this tape when i got home that night. unfortunately, i used this information to mess with bucko's mind occasionally. i told him i had a feeling that he hung out with other girls, or that he liked someone else. he looked at me with these really terrified eyes. our short-lived relationship lasted only a few weeks, and he was my first kiss. but the truly most valuable thing i gained from that experience was the satisfaction of having successfully carried out cicada's marvelous, illegal scheme.
i was living in a beautiful house with my friends whom we'll call poprocks and delroxy. one night, poprocks and i were at a built to spill show and were really having a good time. suddenly there was a boy next to me who started a conversation. i had seem him around because of mutual friends, but what ended up being really strange was that he was my father's student. he and the other boy he was with were electrical engineering students at byu, and were currently taking classes from my father.
this wasn't the last we saw of these two boys, whom we'll call kimball and bucko. two days later, poprocks and i were pulling into the albertson's parking lot when she noticed that bucko was in the vehicle right behind us. he and a friend got out and followed us into the store. we said hi, and he invited us to hang out that night. thus began a few nights hanging out with kimball and bucko.
here was the tricky part: poprocks and i couldn't figure out what was going on. we knew that they liked us. but we didn't know if both liked both, or if one liked one, or both liked one...or what. here is an example of their behavior:
the original plan was that the four of us would hang out after kimball was done with his band practice. but bucko called before that and said that he and i could go out to get something to eat beforehand. skeptically, and confused, i agreed. while i was gone, kimball called the house and spoke with poprocks. he asked for me, but poprocks said i had gone with bucko for some food. kimball said, "she's with bucko? well...where are they?" (this behavior was especially confusing since it was practically verified that kimball had a girlfriend that was out of town for the summer.) perhaps the most confusing thing was the fact that they didn't seem to know what the other was thinking despite their friendship.
we simply didn't know what these boys were thinking. poprocks and i told the situation to our friend cicada. cicada is wise. she matter-of-factly asked, "why don't you tape record their private conversation?" poprocks and i looked at eachother. what??? uh, how would we do that? cicada succinctly explained that we merely needed to hide a running hand-held tape recorder in a car, take them both in the car somewhere where i would run a quick errand, leaving them in the car alone. she said it couldn't fail, that they would almost certainly start talking about me, and the whole situation.
the three of us ran to walmart immediately, it being about 1 am. i purchased a small hand-held taperecorder. the plan was going to work.
later that week i was at bucko's apartment with kimball, burning cds. since i drove a sweet '77 cadillac, getting them to want to ride in my car was easy. i told them we should run to albertson's (about a block away) so i could get some batteries and they could ride in the car. they agreed. i managed to get to my car a little ahead of them so i could turn on the tape recorder and hide it between the two front seats. everything went according to plan.
that night i listened to the tape. the first part was our conversation while driving to the store, but as soon as i had left to get the batteries, there was a brief silence, and then the dirt.
bucko: "dude, i feel like crap. you'll never believe what happened the night
before she knocked on my door..."
kimball: "girlfriend call?"
bucko: "yeah...basically. she called. she knew she was...like, i called tasha on sunday night like really late, like after kellyroxanne went home. she's like, 'what'd you do tonight?' and i'm just like, 'uh, nothing.' and she was like, she said she was figuring i was hanging out with kellyroxanne that night."
kimball: "how'd she know?"
bucko: "something clued her in. cause i said, 'nothing,' you know, and basically lied, and so she found out. and she was like, 'i gotta go, i gotta go.'
kimball: "she found out?"
bucko: "yeah, like, i told her right away that kellyroxanne was coming over, and she was like, 'i gotta go.' she kind of flipped out on me a little bit."
kimball: "did you tell her that i was over there too?"
bucko: "yeah, but she's just kind of having a hard time..."
kimball: (laughing awkwardly) "tell her i like her."
bucko: "she knows that i...kinda like her."
kimball: "does she know? did you tell her?"
bucko: "yeah...i told her i think she's really cool. she knows...i mean, just by saying, she knows i'm interested in the girl, i mean, you know? dude, it sucks, i'm almost like tempted to just can the whole thing just cause i don't want to put up with that, you know?"
kimball: "put up with...?"
bucko: "i don't want to have to deal with like tasha...being all bummed out and...i don't know. but like, what am i supposed to do, like when her missionary comes home, you know?"
kimball: "did you bring that one up?"
(inaudible muttering as i approach the car)
bucko: "...she is a weird-a** girl."
and that was the illegally obtained information we got. imagine my glee, shock, and amusement as i listened to this tape when i got home that night. unfortunately, i used this information to mess with bucko's mind occasionally. i told him i had a feeling that he hung out with other girls, or that he liked someone else. he looked at me with these really terrified eyes. our short-lived relationship lasted only a few weeks, and he was my first kiss. but the truly most valuable thing i gained from that experience was the satisfaction of having successfully carried out cicada's marvelous, illegal scheme.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
"and what exactly are you planning to do with that?"
one of the most exciting things about being a young single college graduate is that every time you meet people they get to ask you what you're doing now. usually this requires an answer such as, "working" or, "going back to school." those are, after all, the only options after you graduate-- there are no alternatives. i happen to fall into both categories at this point, which is now a huge relief.
before i was "going back to school," however, i had to explain to people what i did for work. for the next 6 days i will be working for kelly management services which, yes, is a staffing service well-known for providing temp jobs, but no, is not a temporary job. i work for intel who contracts out to kelly long-term. so even though my job is permanent and everything i do is for intel, i technically work for kelly management services and thus, have the world's crappiest benefits (or would have, if i had opted to) and mediocre pay.
since this career path does not necessarily require a college degree, many ask me what i majored in at byu. i then grit my teeth and try to reply without cringing, "communication studies." then i wait for the automatic and reliable response:
"and what exactly are you planning to do with that?"
true, there are different variations on this theme such as:
"and what can you do with that?"
or the ever-popular:
"what were you thinking when you went into that?"
i will now attempt to answer all of these, and other just as genuine questions. and from now on when i get these responses, i will simply refer them to this blog.
originally at byu, my major was advertising. at byu, this major falls under communications (although now i would think it should fall under business.) i had no particular desire to pursue this degree. but i definitely had even less of a desire to pursue something else. it was the lesser of all the evils, if you will.
to get into the communications department regardless of what track you are in (pr, advertising, or journalism) you must take an entrance exam. every track that is, except for communications studies. (that is the track people take who are too lazy to take the entrance exam.) i had opted to take a lot of my generals to get them out of the way, and to kill time before actually committing to this major. when i was in my junior year* i went to take the entrance exam.
the exam consisted of a current events test, which required reading the new york times daily, and a writing test. the average percentage was 75%. if you got above this average, you were in. i scored a 95%. however, when i checked the list of those admitted into the program, my name was absent.
i checked with a professor about this, and he looked over my file. "hmm, oh, wow, very impressive," he muttered. and then his eyes dropped down further and so did his tone. "oh. that's the problem. you have a lot of credits. enough to graduate in one more year." he went on to explain to me that because the communications department was so over-crowded, that students were highly encouraged to finish in exactly four years. starting the advertising program now would delay my graduation a semester or two. thus, my only option was to be funneled into the communications studies program.
not liking this idea, i sent a letter of appeal to the department. it was promptly rejected, and i was placed in the last few classes i would need.
i must admit i was upset at first. communications studies? no one even knows what that is. it was the least prestigious track of all the tracks in the communications department, and the communications department wasn't even prestigious. (just ask my father, he's an electrical engineer.)
well, i'll tell you what it is. it's the study of how people communicate: observations from intercultural interactions that reveal so much about why miscommunication happens and the severity of such results (to name one thing). to spare you of my conversion to the field of communication studies, i will simply say that i was SO relieved that i was forced into this. i was much more intellectually stimulated and challenged, and now have so much more respect for this field than i could possibly have for advertising.
now that there is some context, let's return to the previous phenomenon. just because i happen to realize the value of communication after my experience doesn't mean that the rest of the world does. especially not middle-aged adults whose children are my peers. i guess to describe the feelings that go through me each time someone asks one of the aforementioned questions, i would have to say it's a process that looks like this:
1) i know what you're thinking because i thought that before: that this degree is analagous to underwater basketweaving
2) i know what you think i'm thinking now: that i'm very proud of my major and oblivious to the fact that some people actually plan on having a career
3) i know what you think i should think about my own major: see # 1
4) i know you have no idea what communications is or why it's so important and worthy of your respect.
and this is why i grit my teeth and try not to cringe when people ask.
*because of AP credits i had earned while in high school, technically credit-wise i was a senior. so just remember to never go the extra mile because it will come back to kick you in the neck.
before i was "going back to school," however, i had to explain to people what i did for work. for the next 6 days i will be working for kelly management services which, yes, is a staffing service well-known for providing temp jobs, but no, is not a temporary job. i work for intel who contracts out to kelly long-term. so even though my job is permanent and everything i do is for intel, i technically work for kelly management services and thus, have the world's crappiest benefits (or would have, if i had opted to) and mediocre pay.
since this career path does not necessarily require a college degree, many ask me what i majored in at byu. i then grit my teeth and try to reply without cringing, "communication studies." then i wait for the automatic and reliable response:
"and what exactly are you planning to do with that?"
true, there are different variations on this theme such as:
"and what can you do with that?"
or the ever-popular:
"what were you thinking when you went into that?"
i will now attempt to answer all of these, and other just as genuine questions. and from now on when i get these responses, i will simply refer them to this blog.
originally at byu, my major was advertising. at byu, this major falls under communications (although now i would think it should fall under business.) i had no particular desire to pursue this degree. but i definitely had even less of a desire to pursue something else. it was the lesser of all the evils, if you will.
to get into the communications department regardless of what track you are in (pr, advertising, or journalism) you must take an entrance exam. every track that is, except for communications studies. (that is the track people take who are too lazy to take the entrance exam.) i had opted to take a lot of my generals to get them out of the way, and to kill time before actually committing to this major. when i was in my junior year* i went to take the entrance exam.
the exam consisted of a current events test, which required reading the new york times daily, and a writing test. the average percentage was 75%. if you got above this average, you were in. i scored a 95%. however, when i checked the list of those admitted into the program, my name was absent.
i checked with a professor about this, and he looked over my file. "hmm, oh, wow, very impressive," he muttered. and then his eyes dropped down further and so did his tone. "oh. that's the problem. you have a lot of credits. enough to graduate in one more year." he went on to explain to me that because the communications department was so over-crowded, that students were highly encouraged to finish in exactly four years. starting the advertising program now would delay my graduation a semester or two. thus, my only option was to be funneled into the communications studies program.
not liking this idea, i sent a letter of appeal to the department. it was promptly rejected, and i was placed in the last few classes i would need.
i must admit i was upset at first. communications studies? no one even knows what that is. it was the least prestigious track of all the tracks in the communications department, and the communications department wasn't even prestigious. (just ask my father, he's an electrical engineer.)
well, i'll tell you what it is. it's the study of how people communicate: observations from intercultural interactions that reveal so much about why miscommunication happens and the severity of such results (to name one thing). to spare you of my conversion to the field of communication studies, i will simply say that i was SO relieved that i was forced into this. i was much more intellectually stimulated and challenged, and now have so much more respect for this field than i could possibly have for advertising.
now that there is some context, let's return to the previous phenomenon. just because i happen to realize the value of communication after my experience doesn't mean that the rest of the world does. especially not middle-aged adults whose children are my peers. i guess to describe the feelings that go through me each time someone asks one of the aforementioned questions, i would have to say it's a process that looks like this:
1) i know what you're thinking because i thought that before: that this degree is analagous to underwater basketweaving
2) i know what you think i'm thinking now: that i'm very proud of my major and oblivious to the fact that some people actually plan on having a career
3) i know what you think i should think about my own major: see # 1
4) i know you have no idea what communications is or why it's so important and worthy of your respect.
and this is why i grit my teeth and try not to cringe when people ask.
*because of AP credits i had earned while in high school, technically credit-wise i was a senior. so just remember to never go the extra mile because it will come back to kick you in the neck.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
hillary, stan, and vince vaughn
normally i like to invent nicknames for people in these stories because it's so much more fun. but in this case, the real names must be used to preserve the authenticity of what happened...
my best friend's sister, "hillary," was in denmark with her father while he was there on business. at the time hillary was about 18, and having lived in sweden for part of her life, spoke fluent swedish. she decided to go on a tour while her father was busy with other things. (i have never been to denmark, but apparently being able to speak swedish is useful there.)
while on the tour, she was in a group with two other tourists. one, a younger-looking man who seemed somewhat familiar. and the other, an old man named stan. hillary noticed a few people approaching the younger man for autographs. she asked him what his name was. he said his name was vince vaughn.
this did not make much of an impression on hillary as she couldn't think of anything this so-called famous actor had acted in. she later asked him again, "wait, what was your name again?" he repeated, "vince vaughn."
as their group of three began the tour it became apparent that stan needed more help than originally thought. when stan pulled out his white cane and started tapping around hillary and vince realized that he was actually quite visually handicapped. they helped stan through the tour, but because stan was very slow, they had a hard time keeping up with the rest of the tour. however, they had a good time and got to know each other quite well.
when the tour had ended, stan was ready to go out on the town with hillary and vince. he seemed to be under the impression that they were friends for at least the rest of the day and should hit a few more tours. but vince helped stan into a cab and they bade a fond farewell to stan. once his cab had left, vince said, "phew! now what do you want to do?" hillary laughed because he seemed so relieved to be rid of stan. vince explained, "now don't get me wrong-- i'm a fan of stan...but he IS a little slow."
hillary and vince spent the rest of the day together enjoying denmark. they went out to eat and hillary asked him what films he had been in. he said that swingers was probably his favorite, but she hadn't seen that. he said he was in jurassic park 2. "jurassic park 2?!" hillary said, making a face. "what? it was a kids' movie!" vince said, defending himself.
apparently he was a perfect gentleman (he called her "kid" a lot) and insisted on paying for everything they did together that day. when it came time to go home, they gave each other a hug and thanked each other for the fun time. i will do my best to get the photo of hillary, vince, and stan together on the tour so i can post it. i know you're dying to see it.
my best friend's sister, "hillary," was in denmark with her father while he was there on business. at the time hillary was about 18, and having lived in sweden for part of her life, spoke fluent swedish. she decided to go on a tour while her father was busy with other things. (i have never been to denmark, but apparently being able to speak swedish is useful there.)
while on the tour, she was in a group with two other tourists. one, a younger-looking man who seemed somewhat familiar. and the other, an old man named stan. hillary noticed a few people approaching the younger man for autographs. she asked him what his name was. he said his name was vince vaughn.
this did not make much of an impression on hillary as she couldn't think of anything this so-called famous actor had acted in. she later asked him again, "wait, what was your name again?" he repeated, "vince vaughn."
as their group of three began the tour it became apparent that stan needed more help than originally thought. when stan pulled out his white cane and started tapping around hillary and vince realized that he was actually quite visually handicapped. they helped stan through the tour, but because stan was very slow, they had a hard time keeping up with the rest of the tour. however, they had a good time and got to know each other quite well.
when the tour had ended, stan was ready to go out on the town with hillary and vince. he seemed to be under the impression that they were friends for at least the rest of the day and should hit a few more tours. but vince helped stan into a cab and they bade a fond farewell to stan. once his cab had left, vince said, "phew! now what do you want to do?" hillary laughed because he seemed so relieved to be rid of stan. vince explained, "now don't get me wrong-- i'm a fan of stan...but he IS a little slow."
hillary and vince spent the rest of the day together enjoying denmark. they went out to eat and hillary asked him what films he had been in. he said that swingers was probably his favorite, but she hadn't seen that. he said he was in jurassic park 2. "jurassic park 2?!" hillary said, making a face. "what? it was a kids' movie!" vince said, defending himself.
apparently he was a perfect gentleman (he called her "kid" a lot) and insisted on paying for everything they did together that day. when it came time to go home, they gave each other a hug and thanked each other for the fun time. i will do my best to get the photo of hillary, vince, and stan together on the tour so i can post it. i know you're dying to see it.
Monday, August 07, 2006
the party crashers
about a week ago i sent an email to my friends inviting them to a "raucous party/ice cream social" because my parents were on a 2 week roadtrip. my parents being gone was really more of a gimmick than anything because my parents knew about it. they were supportive, in fact. still, it was nice to have them out of the way for such an event.
the party would be on a saturday, and as i continued with the party preparations i spoke with my mom during the week about their travel time-frame. we agreed that they would arrive home on sunday night. the day after the party. we spoke several times and each time re-established this itinerary.
the day of the party arrived, and i found myself busy with last minute preparations. in addition to the things i was doing, i had to remember to feed my nephew who was staying alone at my sister's house while she and her husband were on a trip. about an hour before guests could start arriving, i left to pick him up some wendy's. my friend delroxy had arrived early at my house to help prepare. as i waited in the drive-through at wendy's, i got a text from delroxy.
it said: "your parents just came home."
when i read those words i remembered all the times throughout my life that my parents had done things that made me mad, to put it simply. i texted her back: "what!?"
she texted back: "i asked your mom if they had come home early and she said 'i don't think so.'"
after what seemed like an eternity to get home from wendy's, i arrived at my house to see a guest who had already arrived but was sitting in her car. then i saw my mom happily watering her potted plants on the front porch. i got out of my car and said, "what are you doing here? you aren't supposed to be here. i'm having the party, like, right now."
my mom said, "today? but today is sunday!"
no. no. today was NOT sunday.
i explained this to her, and she just couldn't believe it. my step-dad, whom we'll call "tommy," was even taking his sunday pills today, for goodness sake! eventually she came out of denial and went to tell tommy about the mistake they had made.
i had prepared for almost every eventuality for this party, but this! and how could i argue with such a circumstance? it wasn't her fault that she had come back on what she thought was the correct day. i couldn't very well tell her to turn around and go back to mexico...
later, my only regret was that they hadn't shown up in the middle of the party instead of right before. in which case it also would have been awesome if they didn't know about the party, so we could all run and hide ferris bueller style.
maybe next year.
the party would be on a saturday, and as i continued with the party preparations i spoke with my mom during the week about their travel time-frame. we agreed that they would arrive home on sunday night. the day after the party. we spoke several times and each time re-established this itinerary.
the day of the party arrived, and i found myself busy with last minute preparations. in addition to the things i was doing, i had to remember to feed my nephew who was staying alone at my sister's house while she and her husband were on a trip. about an hour before guests could start arriving, i left to pick him up some wendy's. my friend delroxy had arrived early at my house to help prepare. as i waited in the drive-through at wendy's, i got a text from delroxy.
it said: "your parents just came home."
when i read those words i remembered all the times throughout my life that my parents had done things that made me mad, to put it simply. i texted her back: "what!?"
she texted back: "i asked your mom if they had come home early and she said 'i don't think so.'"
after what seemed like an eternity to get home from wendy's, i arrived at my house to see a guest who had already arrived but was sitting in her car. then i saw my mom happily watering her potted plants on the front porch. i got out of my car and said, "what are you doing here? you aren't supposed to be here. i'm having the party, like, right now."
my mom said, "today? but today is sunday!"
no. no. today was NOT sunday.
i explained this to her, and she just couldn't believe it. my step-dad, whom we'll call "tommy," was even taking his sunday pills today, for goodness sake! eventually she came out of denial and went to tell tommy about the mistake they had made.
i had prepared for almost every eventuality for this party, but this! and how could i argue with such a circumstance? it wasn't her fault that she had come back on what she thought was the correct day. i couldn't very well tell her to turn around and go back to mexico...
later, my only regret was that they hadn't shown up in the middle of the party instead of right before. in which case it also would have been awesome if they didn't know about the party, so we could all run and hide ferris bueller style.
maybe next year.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
indecent exposure
today my co-worker happened to be talking about how she and her now husband used to sluff in high school to do the horizontal tango. this was no surprise. but the rest of my co-workers and i did not realize how frequently this was done. the tango-ing co-worker, whom i will call rabbit, admitted that they would do this up to three times a day.
as i was laughing about this, someone mentioned something about a ticket rabbit had received. not having knowledge of any of this, i wanted to know what it was for. rabbit had received a ticket about 7 months ago for indecent exposure. she and her husband had pulled off the side of the road for some spontaneous tango-ing in their truck. i asked what time of day it was, and she said, "in the afternoon."
as i was laughing about this, someone mentioned something about a ticket rabbit had received. not having knowledge of any of this, i wanted to know what it was for. rabbit had received a ticket about 7 months ago for indecent exposure. she and her husband had pulled off the side of the road for some spontaneous tango-ing in their truck. i asked what time of day it was, and she said, "in the afternoon."
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