I stumbled across Rory’s questions this week and thought I’d give it a shot. I always wanted to be a guest on The Late Show or any talk show that would have me, for that matter. However, that doesn’t look like something that may happen, so it’s good that Rory provided this opportunity.
|You have a dinner party and may invite four guests from the following categories one fictional, one dead, and one alive, and a naked chef [wearing an apron only but no clothes underneath – or if you wish, for whatever reason, your chef can be wearing underclothes – pants/top].|
Who will you invite to eat, and who will you ask to cook for your dinner party?
Ok, let me see now because these lists would typically be long, and narrowing it down to one of each takes some thought.
Tony Soprano, Ruth Bader Ginsberg, Melissa McCarthy, and Michael Symon.
If nothing else, lord knows this room would be loud and passionate. I would like to listen to Tony and Ruth discuss justice since they have, shall we say, different techniques. Melissa McCarthy is a quick wit which makes me laugh out loud. It would be fun to watch her moderate the Tony and Ruth debate. As for kitchen duty, I chose Michael because he is passionate about food. He is animated in the kitchen, so he probably should be wearing something for protection, but I’ll leave it up to him.
Inspired by I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!
|Have you ever slept on/in a hammock?|
That would be a no.
|Do you find it easy to maintain friendships with other people?|
Yes. However, it’s usually because of the effort I apply.
|Are you a person of ethics?|
If so, how does that impact your daily life?
Have you seen the world lately? Indeed it does.
|Are you decisive or indecisive as a person?|
It depends on the question. Do you want a piece of cake? I’m very decisive. Do you want to take off tomorrow for an adventure? A million things immediately rush into my brain.
|Why do people hold double standards?|
Because they lack the ability to look at situations with the greater good in mind. People of power are the masters of double standards.
Inspired by Kristian and That Really Burns my Biscuits #10
|What is your unhealthiest but guiltiest pleasure, and why?|
Hands down binge watching mindless television because sometimes you just need to be numb.
|What is your process for writing a new post for your blog?|
Going out in the world and engaging with people. Human contact makes the best stories.
|If you were asked to create a Top Fifteen Book List holding books that you felt everyone should read at least once in their life and would never regret reading, what titles would you include?|
The Four Agreements
All of David Sedaris’s books.
Autobiographies or memoirs that were written by someone you admire.
All of Anne Lamon’s books.
Poems by Maya Angelou
A Boy, the Mule, a Fox and the Horse
A Gift from the Sea
|How important is it for you to know a person’s real name?|
It never occurred to me, so I would say it’s unimportant.
[Be this online, offline, social media, or blogging]
|When at school, what were your top five subjects that you were passionate about?|
5?! English, gym, lunch, art, music
Why was this – what did you love about them?
They were not as restricted as the other subjects.
Are those five subjects still present in your life today in any form?
Hahaha, yes, especially gym, lunch, art, and music.
|With regard to the paranormal, do you choose to not believe because there is nothing to believe or because you feel it is safer to not believe?|
I’m a believer to the fullest extent of believing.
Are you a non-believer or a believer? Same as above
|How are you with meeting strangers/new people who might or could become new friends?|
I’m a professional people meeter and friend maker.
Is there a process you adopt to identify if they are the right fit for you?
Yes. They must have a sense of humor and the ability to hold a deep conversation.
One of my early childhood dreams was to be a mailman. I say “mailman” because when I was a kid, women were busy being housewives. We did not have “carriers”; we had “men.”
To this day, I can’t explain my attraction to this career path, but if I were to guess, it was probably all of the “hello, how ya doings?” Everyone loved to see him heading down the street.
What was not to love? He was the bearer of cards celebrating special occasions, letters from loved ones, and an occasional check. A celebrity every day.
Don’t get me started on the idle chitchat with folks on the route or an unplanned life-saving event due to mail piling up and actually noticing. I do this now for free.
We’re not going to discuss the bills; they were a given.
I was probably deterred by the rain, snow, and sleet motto, only to find out when writing this essay that it was all a LIE.
“The U.S. Postal Service has no official motto. Nope, it’s not this: “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” But we certainly appreciate the sentiment.“US Postal Service
No doubt I heard “gloom of night” and said, “I’m out!”
Anyway, fast forward to yesterday when I went to the post office to mail a package containing a book. The book recipient informed me of a book rate that cuts the shipping cost. Who knew? Not me.
However, I was not informed then that an FBI-like interrogation went along with using this discounted rate. Folks, there is always a damn price to pay!
As always, I waited in line for the lone over-worked employee to address me.
Me: I want to mail this box at the book rate, please.
Overworked employee: Is there a book in the box?
OE: Is there anything else in the box?
OE: Is there a card in the box?
OE: A letter?
Me: Um, no.
Me: There’snothing else in the box.
OE: Ok, fine. Can I get you anything else?
Me: Yes, can I get two books of Christmas stamps?
OE: Which ones?
Me: Not the religious ones, the other ones.
OE: The Elves or the Otters?
Me: One of each, please.
OE: You know they’re brown?
OE: The Elves.
Me: (Looking at the stamps.) They’re Elves.
OE: Yeah, but they’re brown.
Me: Elves aren’t real.
OE: I know; I’m just saying they’re brown.
Me: So are the Otters.
I got my tracking receipt, turned around to leave, looked into the dead stares of a long line of people, and went my merry way. What in the what?
Enjoy the Ride!
“It’s a small world.” How many times have you heard this in your lifetime? I remember my parents saying it and thinking, “What are you talking about?” Now, here I am saying it at least twice a week! It’s official, I’m my parents.
The community had a huge yard sale on Friday and Saturday at the new abode. According to the neighbors, this is a twice-a-year function that is heavily advertised and equally as popular. Perfect timing for this professional box unpacker.
The weather was damp and rainy, but that did not stop the crowds. Yes, crowds. I made a good chunk of change selling crap left by the previous owners and some of my own crap. I’m very close to getting a “less is more” tattoo or t-shirt.
This lovely couple, Frank and Joanne, stopped by to browse yesterday. There was an instant connection. They had a good sense of humor, especially Frank’s quick wit. People could have been shoplifting, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
As we were exchanging backstories of how the hell we wound up in Lewes, DE, Joanne was surprised to learn that I had never vacationed in this area. I explained I’m a Jersey Shore girl, Ocean City. NJ, to be exact. Her parents lived in Ocean City, NJ.
I explained that my husband was familiar with this area through his job, and my only introduction was when we looked at this house. Now she is intrigued.
Joanne, “How do you just move to a place you’ve never been to?”
Me, “I don’t know, but here I am.”
Frank, “Wow, there’s more than one!”
Me, “You know someone else who just packed up to Lewes?”
Joanne, “Yes, our dear friend from college. She just called me one day and told me her boys were all out of the house; they sold their home in Villanova and bought a place in Lewes.”
Frank, “I asked her if she bought it on Amazon because she never asked us to check it out or inquired about the area.”
Joanne, “We couldn’t believe they made such a big purchase without a second thought.”
Me, “I looked at Frank’s Mount St. Mary College sweatshirt while Villanova and boys ran through my mind when I asked, wait a minute, what is your friend’s name?”
Joanne, “Marie _______ _______.”
Me, “WHAT!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
Frank, “You know Marie?”
Me, “Yes, we were paralegals together back in the day and work besties.”
All of us, “OMG! It’s such a small world!” Along with laughter.
Frank takes out his phone, captures a photo of the three of us, and sends it to Marie.
We are all meeting for Happy Hour on Friday!
Enjoy the Ride!
Things are coming together nicely here at the new abode. Setting things up to make it our own. Incorporating some memories of the past with our new upcycled purchases. Facebook Marketplace is my new bestie.
I love the idea that our decor has a back story. Our Ethan Allen dining room set was formally residing in a “home” with a regulation-sized basketball court INSIDE next to the movie theatre. Oh, yeah, that was an, let’s just say, interesting transaction.
Susan, the woman selling this piece, interrogated me online like an FBI agent. I finally had to tell her that we are a middle-aged couple who are too tired to commit a crime, clean it up or run from it. Seriously, Susan!
When we arrived, she answered the door with her phone in her hand, air pods in her ears, and more than once, let us know that her husband was listening to the conversation. If fear were a person …
Once we passed her test, she started pushing other items for sale on us. Bye, Susan, bye-bye.
Needless to say, that experience left a mark, but humanity was restored when I hit the jackpot on a gorgeous 2-year-old retractable canvas awning to shade our enormous deck. I need to enjoy the deck, not fry eggs on it.
Anna had the most beautiful beachfront home in North Jersey and a heart to match. She was handing over this $14,000 plus awning, in mint condition, for a mere $700.00, and she threw in the custom-made cover to boot. She was no Susan, that’s for sure.
Maybe the salt air, her Italian heritage, or both made her so generous. All I know is Anna’s house was right out of Architectural Digest, and it was warm, welcoming, and filled with love. Her only request was a photo of us relaxing under the awning.
Next up, we needed some headboards. One, because we upgraded to a King mattress and handed the sleigh bed over to our son, and two, we now have extra bedrooms for when the kiddies visit. They better visit!
Once again, the Marketplace came through like a genie granting wishes. For $150 bucks, we landed two, like new, Ethan Allen twin headboards that match our existing dresser perfectly. The owner had them stored at Sprinkles, their ice cream shop, and gave us a cone of our choice on the house with the purchase. What more could we ask for at this point?
Well, I’m gonna tell ya. We still needed the king-sized headboard. The challenge was getting one that matched our cherry wood set without looking too Ralph Laurenish at our new beach location. Are you with me?
Just when I thought this would be an issue, Lauren, a young woman with a great sense of humor, posted the PERFECT piece for $100. She was posting for her mom Lisa, who we concluded was a fantastic person based on her name. Yes, my name is Lisa, so I know this to be true.
Today we are on our way to pick up yet another Ethan Allen piece. It is a beautiful cabinet, with a hidden desk for all our electronic devices/crap that we don’t want to expose. Amen!
This beauty has been for sale for four weeks. It is the last piece standing in a sold home that must be gone by tomorrow. Can you say deal of a lifetime?
I love the idea of second chances, backstories, and new beginnings, whether furniture or lifestyles; we can all Enjoy the Ride more than once.
Back in January, when we decided to move to another state, after 58 years of living not only in one state but one zip code, I knew things would be challenging. Correction, I did live in another zip code for the first 15 months of my life.
In October, we purchased a home to use as a second residence while renting our apartment at the complex I like to call “The Resort,” but the universe always has bigger plans. A heads up would be nice.
We landed at The Resort after selling our home of 30 years to our son and surrendering to the inflated, dog-eat-dog real estate market in our area. Sorry, you’re not getting my soul for a house.
A CURVEBALL ARRIVED just when I was getting used to the thought of weekend getaways and vacations at our home. BAM! A colleague of my husband’s announced his retirement in the same area where we purchased our home. He saw this as an opportunity served on a silver platter, while I saw more of a Taco Bell drive-thru moment. Yup, fear, and doubt were playing center stage.
I had more to think about in my defense, like leaving my job of 18 years. Oh, and let’s not forget MY CHILDREN. I compiled a list of excuses a mile long. I presented my case without a single dramatic courtroom moment and concluded that the jury had spoken; it’s time to pack your bags. Maybe it was just the thought of packing for the second time in a year.
Financially it was a no-brainer to make a move. Sentimentally, in my mind, it was just not happening. Meanwhile, I am the first to tell anyone, “why are you holding on to that?”
As the months and days went on, reality sank in that this was actually happening. But I just couldn’t trust that this huge life change was happening for me and not to me. Even though examples were in my face clear as glass every day, without fail. At this point, even the universe had its hands in the air.
What does a girl do when she just can’t seem to get a handle on trusting what’s best for her? Oh, she consults a Psychic. That’s right, folks, if Abraham Lincoln could do it, so could I. Google it; it’s a fact.
How did that go, you ask? Well, I’m currently sitting in my new home writing this post. We moved in over the weekend during a freak Nor’eatser storm. Drowned Rat Moving Company may be a new business venture.
All week I watched the weather report showing a Nor’easter with flooding rains and 50/60 mile an hour wind would be hitting the area. There couldn’t be a better metaphor for what I was leaving behind. Well played, Mother Nature, well played.
Typically I would have looked at this storm as “a sign” that we shouldn’t move. I’ve spent too much time and energy playing victim. Those days are over. Guess what else storms bring? SUNNY SKIES.
I’m entering this new adventure with an open mind, heart, and growth. This chapter is called: Knowing my Worth and Acting Accordingly.
It’s never too late to Enjoy the Ride!
Did you hear the one about the squirrel that walked onto a deck wearing a mask during the pandemic? At this point, it’s the only way anyone would believe that this actually happened yesterday. On the FIRST day, masks were mandatory in Pennsylvania.
I was sitting in my sunroom, on a quiet morning, listening to the bird’s chirp, waiting for the sun to make an appearance when I felt I was being watched. Listen to your instincts.
Once my eyes registered, I realized that I was, in fact, looking at a squirrel, looking at me, wearing a mask. This little guy just stood there as if he was on the red carpet waiting for the paparazzi to get their shot, which is precisely what I did. A miracle considering the laughter!
I still have no idea what this little guy had in his mouth, so I’m going with the obvious, that he watched a do-it-yourself mask-making video like the rest of us. Well done!
Now that the squirrel community is on board with following directions, it would be great if humans would follow suit. The sad reality is that people are well, people, and they only listen to what they want to hear and do what they want to do. Educated, grown-ass adults suddenly become toddlers.
It’s not that difficult. Wear the mask because the GOVERNOR said so. This is smart, safe, and limits make-up application to just the eyes.
The lack of human cooperation since the kick-off of Stay In Your Damn House guidelines does not surprise me or any other human being who has witnessed the behavior of parents on back to school night. When the words “this is not the time to ask questions about your child” are uttered, the hands begin to rise.
Disclaimer: I’m not a teacher. I’m the parent who LISTENS.
Living in a culture where instant gratification is a necessity and impatience is at the forefront does not help. Listening to adults asking on more than one occasion, “Is this over yet?” is the equivalent to “Are we there yet?” and that rarely ends well. Get hold of yourselves, people!
Honestly, the universe doesn’t always protect us, sometimes it challenges us with more than we would like to receive, and on occasion, hits us when we’re down, instead of cutting us a break. We have to remember that not every test passes in an instant, and not every threat can just be shrugged off. So, here we are, on the day who the hell knows of this blip in our regular routines, with guidelines changing every day, and new choices to be made. We can resist. We can hide. Or, we can just react in a manner that will benefit ourselves and others.
Don’t make it harder than it has to be. Enjoy the Ride!
As most of you know I work in the medical field, on the administrative side, not the actual healing side. Trust me, this is a blessing for all of us.
Although, I must say, after 15 years I do believe I could include therapist to my resume without an ounce of guilt.
I say this because, for whatever reason, some patients walk in the door with an agenda to unload. I’m not sure if it’s the glass window, my face or loneliness, but whatever the case may be, the stories just spill into the room. Some good, others require earplugs.
Don’t get me wrong this can be a blessing or a curse depending on the schedule. There are days when I have to take things with a grain of salt, and then there are days when a gem like the one I’m about to share falls right into my lap and heart. It’s like hitting an emotional lottery.
George and Pauline are longtime patients. They are both in their 90’s, with Pauline being 8 years older. Yes, Pauline is pushing 100.
They are both brilliant, highly educated, interesting, frisky and funny as hell! The full package.
Unfortunately for everyone, Pauline can no longer come into the office, but thank goodness George comes regularly.
On Thursday, when George was making his next appointment I inquired about Pauline and he said “the honeymoon isn’t over” and I smiled. This is when he spilled to this GEM all over my desk. Hmm … I hope I scheduled his next appointment.
One month after we were married Pauline was in the kitchen when I was heading out for a morning run. I yelled from the door “Pauline, I’ll be back I’m going for a run” and she replied, “hurry back and I’ll make it worth your while” The honeymoon wasn’t over. At this point, George is sporting a huge grin.
He continues to tell me that he hadn’t thought about that moment in a very long time, but today as he was leaving to come to this appointment, Pauline was settled in with her aide when he yelled into the room “Pauline, I’m going to see the doctor, I’ll be back shortly” and without missing a beat she replied, “hurry back and I’ll make it worth your while” As I was staring at George I noticed he was still wearing that big grin, but his eyes were welling up when he leaned in and said: “Looks like the honeymoon isn’t over yet.”
Honestly, folks, it doesn’t get much better than that now does it? Enjoy the Ride!
Verb: demand something forcefully, not accepting refusal.
This right here is the story of my life Monday through Thursday as I’m slaving away at my job in the healthcare industry.
I’m not sure what occurs before a potential patient contacts our office for an appointment, but it’s not a moment of zen.
I imagine more of a good look in the mirror for a one on one pep talk. “You got this!” “Pick up that phone and DEMAND to be seen TODAY because everything is ALL about YOU!”
The other explanation would be that they just live their every day lives like the entitled e’ffers they are, and this is their norm. This right here is the winner.
Me: Good morning Doctor’s office.
PITA: I need to be seen today around 1. Have you been eating your make-up again?
Me: Are you already a patient?
PITA: No! Bitch in the house.
Me: Did you have a trauma?
PITA: No! Ok, I see where this is heading.
Me: Are you a diabetic with a wound?
PITA: No! God help us all.
Me: Why do you need to be seen today?
PITA: I have a painful corn on my toe, and I’m leaving for Florida tomorrow. Tragic, absolutely tragic.
Me: Well, that’s not something we would consider an emergency.
PITA: But I’m in pain, and I have things to do before I leave. Sounds like a first world problem to me.
Me: You would be a new patient, which takes extra time and you do not have an emergency.
PITA: You mean to tell me you don’t save time for emergencies? Can you please Google emergency?
Me: Yes, we do, but your situation is not an emergency.
PITA: Being in pain isn’t an emergency? You are being inconvenienced, there’s a difference.
Me: Not the type of pain you’re experiencing.
PITA: Well, what am I going to do? I hoping for death.
Me: Call around to see if you can get in with another physician.
PITA: I don’t have time for that today. I told you I needed to come today at 1:00. Because you are who again?
Me: I’m sorry, but I already told you that would not be possible.
PITA: Huffing and puffing. The agony of defeat is music to my ears.
PITA: I guess I’ll have to try someone else since you don’t want to help me. Bye Bitch!
Me: Silence. CLICK! BAM! BOOM!
Enjoy the ride!
For as long as I can remember I’ve been required to complete some sort of form before my entrance into a school, hospital or doctors office. So why is this practice suddenly considered a personal attack on freedom? I have a few ideas.
Well, for whatever reason, people seem to be relating this procedure as a personal infringement on their rights as an American citizen. Hmm, I wonder where they could have gotten that idea?
As some of you may already know, I work in the healthcare system where I am in the presence of the public on a daily basis. Feel free to send words of encouragement.
So, as you can imagine, my days have been a real joy ever since people decided that every question presented, including NAME, has a hidden agenda. Items that have been routinely asked for DECADES I might add!
There seem to be (2) questions that set people off on a personal protest, lecture or comments on everything unfair. Let me introduce you to race and ethnicity. Again, why?
Um, first of all, it’s evident to anyone with eyes if you’re black, white, orange or blue and secondly, you do have the FREEDOM to not answer the questions. Places do exist where options are not a thing, and this isn’t one of them.
Recently a new patient completed his form and vigorously crossed out ALL of the race selections to write A M E R I C A N across the page. Where does one begin?
Do I ….
a) Inform him that “AMERICAN” is not a race or an ethnicity unless you are in fact a NATIVE. Based on his white hair, blue eyes and Fighting Irish jacket, I’m going to risk stating that his ancestors were not the hot guys in loincloths at the first Thanksgiving.
b) Ask WTF does that mean? Outloud!
c) Earn an Oscar nomination for exhibiting an extreme level of control while in the presence of an ass. Is there a category for “best poker face?”
See you on the red carpet folks! I have bills to pay ya know.
Next up are the folks who REFUSE to complete the ethnicity portion of the form, which is fine, and again, you have that right. In fact, there is even a little box that says DECLINES TO PROVIDE.
NO ONE, especially me is forcing you to reveal your heritage. However, one does not have to be Nancy Drew to solve that mystery or at least come close. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what makes people tick.
My faith in humanity weakens when I think about the passion associated with these “protests” and how that energy is wasted on something so senseless. Ugh!
Do they realize that their name, address, social security number, phone numbers, employer information, marital status and the name of a family member for an emergency contact have just been delivered on a silver platter, which dramatically weakens their argument and provides enough evidence to trace their roots back to a cave? Dear Lord!
Use your energy wisely and as always, Enjoy the Ride!
I recently ran late for work, which is very out of character for this early bird. Of course, it had nothing to do with me. Nope, I have to blame it on the dog. The ole “the dog ate my homework” just reached a new level.
Every day before I leave for the salt mines I take my love bugs for a walk. They are well aware of this routine and are normally waiting on me. This particular morning Peanut was suddenly MIA. As I was calling him I could actually hear the panic in my voice. Pets are not spared from my zero to catastrophic reasoning.
I ran up the steps expecting to find a four-legged comatose dog, but instead, I found a stuffed Ladybug smoking a cigarette in the hallway. (not really we don’t allow smoking in the house) and Pee Wee paralyzed by an erection in the bedroom! (erections are always welcome, except in this moment) Oh yes, this was happening.
Look, if you’re going to be late, I’m certain the line “I’m sorry I’m late I had to wait for my dogs erection to recede in order to take him out for his morning poop” will not only work, it just may go down in infamy at work places across the land. No questions asked.
My first jaw-dropping excuse came from Jackie, a young girl from the hood, who I had the pleasure of knowing early on in my working career. She called out one morning with this gem. “I won’t be in today, my boyfriend dropped his gun on my foot and I can’t walk.” It’s solidly shocking enough not to question its authenticity. Feel better and leave his ass is all that can follow.
Of course, all excuses can not be as great as these two, so we settle for what I like to call “The Lazy.” This is when you just roll over, pick up the phone and make that call before ever uttering a single word. You proceed to sound as if you’ve crawled through the dessert for a week while stating you are soooooooo sick you feel as if were hit by a truck. Yes, the groggy morning voice works but it’s lazy, lacks creativity and leaves you in the position of answering questions about your miraculous recovery the following day. Effort and imagination are your friends, people.
Then there is this classic, “The Silencer”. You start off strong with “everything is coming out of both ends.” Although this statement will have you on and off the phone in a nano second, it will also leave the door open. The recipient is left to wonder “how in gods name are you making this call?” or they are imaging you sitting on the toilet. Now one of you must die.
But I must say, nothing to date has even come close to the lengths one of my sister’s co-workers went in order to dodge a huge meeting in NYC. Are you familiar with the saying “less is more”? Well, you’re about to be.
This guy was one of those co-workers that had an all talk no show kind of work ethic. We’ve all had one of these in our lives.
My sister on the other hand is nothing short of a psycho perfectionist with standards through the roof. Martha Stewart meets Walmart.
She knew there was no way in the world he was prepared for this presentation. Even by his lazy standards.
Mr. Unprepared headed to the train station with his empty briefcase. The briefcase of deceit.
The next day the office received a call that Mr. Unprepared was a no-show to the meeting. Shocking.
This simple act now transpired into frantic phone calls to his cell, the hotel, the client, his family and anyone else on the planet who may have information on his whereabouts. This went on ALL day.
Imagine a full-blown investigation, manhunt, milk cartons being prepped for his photo and my sister feeling a tad guilty for all of those lovely adjectives she used to describe him. Just a tad.
Shit got real when his wife showed up at the office in tears with their baby and his parents with the faces of fear and anguish. All of this over not being prepared.
After hours of worry for everyone, and the revelation of huge holes in his timeline, he surfaced to state that he was robbed and disoriented. Really now ….
Ironically, once again his creativity fell short. If you’re planning on going to this extreme you better be the master. This guy wasn’t even close.
He came back to the office with no signs of a struggle, other than his smile. Talk about leaving the door open for questions. “I ate some bad sushi from a street vendor” would have been the appropriate way to go in this situation. Short and sweet.
This guy was the definition of Douchebaggery!
While everyone was fawning over his safe return, my sister was giving him the “I know what you did last night” eye. He knew that she was on to him.
So, what do rats do when they’re trapped in a corner? They head to HR with lies about their trapper. Oh yes he did.
Let’s just say he probably never saw the knock on his door, followed by the words “Hey Pussy, can I talk to you?” coming.
Enjoy the Ride! No questions asked.