Monday, November 26, 2007

Journey to the Dark Side

Her tan, even, smooth skin begged to be touched. Her deep, dark soulful eyes drew you in to their very depths. Her pouty lips were tinted in just the right shade of pink: dark enough to make a statement yet light enough to lend an air of innocence to her. Her silky, shiny dark hair cascaded in a seductive spray over her toned, golden shoulders. It was her breasts, however, that were most the impressive. As she leaned out the window, they attempted to spill out of her black strapless dress. I was mesmerized by her. She was stunning.

I was jolted back to my chubby, sagging, freckled reality by the sound of her seductive and beckoning voice. “What can I get for you today?”

With much shame and embarrassment, I expertly said to the woman, “Um….I’d like a grande mocha, sugar free syrup, non fat, no whip, please. Oh, and I’d like one of those sleeve thingies”

From the back seat of the car, I heard the teenager mutter with disgust. “Look where this coffee thing has taken you Mom! You’ve just driven your children to the wrong side of town where you and a bunch of dirty old men are staring at a practically naked woman…. all because of coffee!”


My downward spiral to the dark side began after my mother died, as do most downward journeys. I wasn’t sleeping well. I was planning my own mother’s funeral. I was driving very long distances on the crowded freeway. I was stressed, stuck in rush hour traffic and falling asleep at the wheel. It was then that peer pressure and advertising and desperation forced me to do the unthinkable. As I pulled off the freeway it took me about 3.2 seconds to find a supplier. I walked into the coffee shop intending to order a medium coffee. MY FIRST ONE EVER. I became a bit confused when nowhere on the menu did I see the word “medium”. For that matter, nowhere on the menu did I see the word, “coffee”. My fumbling, erroneous, question filled order caused much amusement among the baristas. They too, however, had many confusing questions of their own concerning things that were new to me like foam and whip and non versus 2%. I just wanted a cup of coffee to keep me awake. I had no idea I needed to bring a resume and instruction manual and an Italian translator.

Back in the car, I held the hot cup in my hand thinking that somebody should really make something to fit around the cup so it isn’t so hot in my hand. I tried to decipher the hieroglyphics written in Sharpie on the side of my cup as I approached the onramp to the freeway. It only took me about ½ a mile to come to the conclusion that it is really quite dangerous to attempt to drink and drive at the same time. After about 15 miles I came to realize that it is really quite dangerous to attempt to drink and drive when your hands and brain and eyeballs are so jittery you can barely control the steering wheel and the stereo and the almost empty coffee cup in your hand. It was then that I vowed, at that very moment, that this coffee thing must stop.

The very next morning I felt an overpowering urge to order my second cup of coffee, ever. This time I was a bit more confident placing my order and no one laughed at me. I even announced to the cute girl taking my order that “this was only my second cup!”

“Today?” she inattentively mumbled.

“No,” I replied. “EVER!!”

She dropped the cup in her hand to the floor. She gripped the counter top with both hands, took a deep breath and whispered quietly to herself, “The last coffee virgin on earth……and she’s mine!”

She then turned to face me with a huge, orgasmic grin on her face and a slightly evil look in her eye and said forcefully, “I HAVE SO MUCH TO TEACH YOU!!”

I told her about getting the jitters the day before. She recommended that a coffee virgin, like me, might want to ease into the exhilarating caffeine experience. She offered to customize my drink with fewer “pumps” and “shots”.

I was shocked when I unexpectedly shouted out a little too loudly, with much extreme feeling, “No! Don’t take away my pumps or my shots…..I…I…I kind of liked the jitters.” I suddenly knew that I might have a problem.

It was then that I vowed, at that very moment, that this coffee thing must stop. Well…..as soon as I finished that amazing mocha that the excited, cute girl made, the best I’d ever had actually, then, it would stop. I swear.

I snuck a third mocha 3 days later. The husband never knew. I felt weak. I was embarrassed. It was then that I vowed, at that very moment, that this coffee thing must stop.

2 weeks after that I ventured into new territory and ordered a gingerbread latte. I drank it in secret. No one knew but me. I was too ashamed. I didn’t like the fact that I was well on my way to becoming one of those inveterate mommies, waiting in the Starbucks line, after dropping their kids off at school. I was unhappy that I had given in to the societal caffeine driven peer pressure. It was then that I vowed, at that very moment, that this coffee thing must stop. And it did.

Until that foggy and chilly Saturday morning, a few weeks later, when I found myself on the wrong side of the valley with half an hour to spare. The teenager couldn’t believe I was considering getting some coffee. She saw it as a sign of weakness, as an addiction and representative of all that I had taught her to “JUST SAY NO” to. She had already convinced me not to get a coffee outside of the Home Depot. She helped me say “NO” to the espresso stand inside of the grocery store. She convinced me that, “it wasn’t worth it” at that stand beside that taco place we had lunch at. But driving to the soccer field, with plenty of extra time, I saw the espresso stand on the side of the road, calling out to me, and I just had to pull in. I had no idea, though, that I’d be getting so much more than just a cup of coffee.

As we left the provocative and very busy espresso stand that day and said goodbye to the beautiful, half naked woman who made me my mocha, the teenager in the back seat was seen huddled, pretending to be asleep and rolling her eyeballs in complete disgust. The impressionable, young boy, also in the back seat of the car, had an awkward smile plastered on his face and was, apparently, intrigued by the whole experience. He piped up, “Hey, can we come back on Thursday, Mom? It’s Naughty Schoolgirl Day! Or how about Wednesday? It’s Military Appreciation Bikini Day! I bet Dad would really like that!”

And after I finished that fabulous mocha, I vowed, at that very moment, that this coffee thing must stop. This coffee thing had produced nothing but jitters, extra weight and the exposure of my children to some darn near pornographic moments.

And it has stopped...I swear.


Check This Out!
If you have half a brain and your last book wasn’t a supermarket paperback romance, then this next book is for you. A Sense of the World: How a Blind Man Became the History's Greatest Traveler by Jason Roberts. Fascinating, full of lots of history and politics and interesting social observations all intertwined in this amazing man's life story. Buy it if you have to. It's in paperback and worth the price.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

They Might Be Different Than Me

They’re talking about letting people different than me move to my suburb.

Apparently, it’s not going to turn out well.

They’re talking about letting poor people move to my suburb and they might be different than me. Apparently, not all of them will be white. They will live in cramped apartments. Near my neighborhood. Their children will hang out in the apartment parking lot playing loud music and will be up to no good. They will be criminals who will steal my television set or my car. They will have tattoos and guns and get high on drugs. They will be on welfare and be supported by my tax dollars. They have nothing to offer the suburbs. The people are not happy about this.

They’re talking about letting rich people move to my suburb and they might be different than me. Apparently, most of them will be white. They will live in huge, wasteful houses. Near my neighborhood. Their children will hang out unsupervised at home playing Xbox and will be up to no good. They will be criminals who lie on their expense report and pay the housekeeper under the table. They will hide their tattoos and guns and get drunk on rum and Coke. They will be too busy to be on the school board and will complain about paying their tax dollars. They have so much to offer the suburbs. The people are so happy about this.

They’re talking about letting conservative people move to my suburb and they might be different than me. Apparently, most of them will have “Bush ’04” bumper stickers on the back of their Ford pickup trucks. They will accept the federal deficit, will protest abortion on the weekends and will vehemently support the NRA.

They’re talking about letting liberal people move to my suburb and they might be different than me. Apparently, most of them will have “Obama ’08” bumper stickers on the back of their Subarus. They will accept homosexuality, will protest the war on weekends and will vehemently support organic, sustainable agriculture.

“Green” people might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will make the rest of us feel inferior as they smugly drive their hybrids, ride their bicycles or take the bus to work every day.

Skeptical people might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them still think Al Gore is an idiot, still have incandescent light bulbs in their home, and still own 2 stroke gas powered lawn equipment.

Vegetarians might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will offend the rest of us as they rudely refuse to eat the standard ribs or hamburgers at the neighborhood barbeque parties.

Christians might move to my suburb. Apparently most of them will be unavailable for Sunday morning yard work before the football game and will also cause horrible traffic congestion as their cars will suddenly be unmanned when the rapture comes.

Lazy people might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will cause my property value to go down when they don’t mow their lawn or paint their trim or clean their garage.

Type A people might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will cause my house and yard to look unkempt as they will spend every weekend making their own look spectacular.

Aging hippies might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will spend their time depleting the worldwide supply of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream while they smoke the pot they grew under the grow lights kept in the spare bedroom.

Children might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will be loud and unruly and will let their soccer balls and their feet and their bikes trample what little grass I have managed to grow.

Dogs might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will wake me up with their morning barking, stink up my shoes with their daily deposit on my lawn and torture my petunias when they attempt to dig them up.

Self absorbed people might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will never be seen or heard from because they have better things to do than make friends.

Kind and giving people might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will drive me crazy trying to get me to volunteer with them to clean the neighborhood park or collect food for the food bank or make a casserole for the lady who was in the car accident.

Computer geeks might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will frustrate me as they download super large files and steal my bandwidth from the cable internet connection.

Cell phone owners might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them won’t look as they back out of their driveway while dialing, will ignore their children when they take them to the park and talk on their phone, and will interrupt our neighborly conversation to answer the Celine Dion ringtone.

Teenagers might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will waste away entire days viewing their My Space account, texting until their thumbs go numb and pulling their pants up to cover up their muffin top.

Ethnic people might move to my suburb. Apparently, most of them will look different than me, wear their hair different than me and have different kinds of smells coming from their kitchen.

Illegal aliens might move to my suburb. Apparently, none of them speak English. Well, that's just plain wrong. This is America!

They’re talking about letting people different than me move to my suburb.

The people are unsure about this.

They think they know.

They’re talking about letting short, married women with children move to my suburb and they might be just like me. Apparently, one of them will be a blogger who, if given enough time, just might find a way to offend every single person she knows.


Check This Out!

If you haven’t seen the Discovery channel’s series, Planet Earth, you are truly missing out. As one of the children said, “I like this WAY more than I than I thought I would mom. It’s pretty cool.” For a preview, go to dsc.discovery.com. Type in Planet Earth in the site search. Click on videos to get an amazing preview. I know that will convince you watch on TV or buy the DVD.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

The Kitty Contract, Part 2--The Counter Offer

Note: The kitties have responded directly to a previous blog, The Kitty Contract, from Thursday, October 4, 2007. It might prove beneficial to reread that one before reading this current one.--M

Dear Owner:
We saw the blog you wrote
And we really don’t agree.
In fact we’re quite offended
At your errant public decree.
We’re the laughing stock of the kitty world
And it hasn’t been any fun.
Our friends all think that we are guilty
Of things you said we’ve done.
Let us say, right from the start
That you’re getting on our nerves.
The squirt bottle you use is more abuse
Than any cat deserves.
We’ve been loyal, cuddly, cute and good
And we have things to say!
Locking us up, like you do,
Is definitely not the right way.

You mentioned you thought that maybe you hadn’t
Explained the rules to us.
We are here to tell you that you sure are making
Much too big a fuss.
Why can’t we all just get along
And be friends and sleep in peace?
We think you should chill and all this tension
Should just completely cease.
You are mistaken about our motives
And the things you say we do wrong.
For all we want is for you to love us
And to feel like we belong.









We wake you up in the middle of the night
Because we miss you so.
We’re lonely without you and sometimes we run fast
When we really mean to go slow.
We crawl under the covers because we are scared
Of the dark and creaky house.
We are very sorry if we have caused problems
Between you and your hunky spouse.
As far as your concern for our kitty squabbles
That keep you up in the night,
We will try to keep quiet as we attempt
To set our kitty disputes to the right.

You should know that a cat is meant to be fat
And we would like a bit more food.
That is why we gulp and steal from each other
Even though we know it’s rude.
And if you would give us the food that we like
To make us good and happy and fat
Then we wouldn’t steal the food from your plate
And endure the insult, “BAD CAT!”
And as for the salmon and chicken you eat
That is just not playing fair.
If you eat those things we will come after you
And take them from you, WE SWEAR.

Just for the record, we are not dumb dogs;
And we are not your maid.
If you’d like us to clean, then leave some fish “crumbs”
For that we might give some aid.
Though, only a dog would lick the floor clean
And waste good slumber time.
In fact, most dogs are so very stupid
It really must be a crime.

We enjoy your appliances, for they are cozy
And curious and different and nice.
We shamelessly must admit however,
For the hot stove we have paid a high price.
Likewise, the blender, the toaster, the crock pot
Are mostly very scary.
We can assure you that in the very near future
We will, of course, be wary.
And just so you know and understand,
The mixing bowls are comfy and nice.
They hug our curves and surround our fur,
They are cozy and definitely suffice.
We admit we have gotten into the drawers
And have slept with a very sharp knife.
But we also must say it has been such a thrill
And has not caused any strife.

Now onto that awful thing you keep on calling
A kitty “scratching post”.
We have seen better and think you should spend more
For a tower, which is what we want most.
The stick you have covered in cheap beige rug
Should be outlawed and thrown away.
We’re three cats with claws with one useless post
Much to our shocked dismay.
And until the awful post is replaced,
We hope that you already know
That the couch and the screen door and maybe the curtains
Are where our claws will likely go.

You seem to have many, many complaints
About the things that we find fun.
You seem to imply that we often stop you
From quickly getting things done.
We impatiently implore you to look and see it
From our feline point of view.
When we play with all of your really cool things
It gives us something constructive to do.
And most of the time when we play with your things
You’re sitting right there with us.
"It’s quality time!" That’s what we say.
So stop making a ridiculous fuss.
The next time we chew on the computer antenna
Or chase the laces on your dirty old shoes.
Be grateful that we aren’t clawing the couch
Because in that game you will certainly lose.

Now we come to the toilet part of this contract
And your request most certainly stinks.
With no pun intended we really must say
It is the toilet that has the best drinks.
And when you flush it and it swirls around
Well, we think it’s the best thing ever.
So we will continue our toilet obsession
Abandon it? We will never!

We also are considering a kitty lawsuit
About the paint that did cover our feet.
We licked the paint and it did not taste good
It was not fitting for kitties to eat.
So in short, we don’t care if your dresser got dirty
Or if the nightstand was covered in paint.
We feel lucky to be here alive today
And make known our paint complaint.

We also have another big problem
With the litter boxes we use.
You are pathetically slow at cleaning them
No matter which one we choose.
They both are quite nasty and full of our pee
And with what you would call “number 2”.
Until they are clean then we will go where we like
And we hope you soon catch a clue.












We want you to know that we really do think
That someday you’ll learn what we need.
With a little training from us and a little more time
We are confident that you will succeed.
In fact, you already do a few things
That we really like quite a lot.
We really like watching the birds in the trees
And we like the fireplace when it gets hot.
We love all of your blankets and pillows and towels
And we love sleeping on them all day.
When the kids aren’t too careful and don’t shut the door
We love sneaking outside to play.

So we hope you have learned some things from reading
The demands we have written to you.
And we sure hope you fix them all right away.
Cuz you never know what we might do……

Much furry love, The Kitties


Check This Out!

In an effort to stick with our manipulative kitty theme today, go to You Tube and type in “Kitty Wake Up Call”. Click on the second or third one down—it’s the one that looks like a drawn cartoon.

Or, copy and paste this link.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhoN6vJNsek