Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Dana - I can't think of when we weren't friends. I met her in 7th grade. Our weekends used to be filled with watching Love Boat, Fantasy Island and listening to her Steve Martin albums. A few years ago, we were out to diner. Across the street was a record store. I had a feeling there might be those same Steve Martin albums on CD. There they were. We bought them and we each have copies. When Steve pops up on my iPod, It brings me back to Dana.
David - He was visiting his friend, an Irish exchange student, near my parent's house in Chicago. The friend's name was Mal. I always say short for malcontent. He was a crab. I tried being nice to him, take him to some unique Chicago places. He hated everything. My dad had a sailboat and said that Mal, the host family were going to be going sailing - did I want to come along. I was about to say no when Mal introduced his friend, David. David was the opposite of Mal - he was witty and funny. Because of him, I went sailing. Out on the boat, my dad let David steer the boat. There was a depth gauge - dad didn't think it was working right. It was erratic. At some point my dad was lost in conversation. The depth gauge said something like 50 ft, then 40, 30. David pointed this out to me. We both were thinking "Oh shit!" Were we in some weird shallow area? Somehow we got past that point and thegauge went back to being all erratic. David has been my friend ever since we almost beached my dad's boat.
Caroline We were both transfer students at MCAD and kinda cynical about college. Most of our classmates were new and still loving it. Caroline was in my type class. I could hear that she did not have a Minnesoooooda accent. Something from the east. We're going around the room introducing ourselves. She says something like "I'm a transfer student," and that was about it. I walked over to ask her where shetransferred from. "Oh, you wouldn't know it." She was kind of curt. But I was curious. Try me. "Bard College" I knew of it and had stories of a recruiter coming to my high school and actually a car from Bard hitting my mom's car in NY. I responded something like it's some crazy art school in Upstate New York. Nobody else had known the answer. That's when we bonded.
Ken - we met on a film shoot taking place in the Stillwater jail. Or I just like to say I met Ken in prison. It's more shocking. I was doing production work and he was doing sound. At some point it was getting stressful - he said something like I sure do wish I had some Maalox Whip. Maalox in an aerosol can. We by chance thought it was hilarious. And we were probably the only ones who had bought it.
Patrick - I can remember him making fun of Chisholm/Bop, a system using human fingers as an abacus. It was featured in an old '70s commercial. And that he laughed at my answering machine message of the evil killer Teddy Ruxpin. Grandma said the message would scare away the boys. I told her if that scared them, then good. She didn't get it. Pat said it didn't scare him.
Karen - she is in my book club. I can remember joking around saying my company was looking for part time workers to work the ice cream carts. I was shocked when she was actually interested - and now she and her husband are some of our top sellers.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
here.We were in the home and garden show over the weekend. I was talking to this guy telling him I get massages from someone in Hour Dollars. He told me he knew Sister Rosalind - she's a nun who does and teaches massage. She even drags her massage chair to our local minor league baseball stadium, home of the St Paul Saints. Her style of massage is like S and M - seriously. She's this tiny German woman, but she can make the biggest men cry in pain because she does such deep tissue massage. I love her but all I'll take from her is a hug. So how this guy got to know Sister Rosalind, was his sister told him to come to Minnesota and take Sister Rosalind's massage course.His sister told him it would only take 4-6 months. He said the course actually took a year and half. He was indignant, how dare his sister lie just to get him to come to MN. You can't lie to siblings after age 10 he said. I laughed. I told him my sister and I had this ongoing game. My grandma would send us a check for our birthdays. The amounts were always the same for each kid. But! What was fun to call up my sister and tell her that grandma gave me $50 - when in fact it was only $25. Pretty much we just double the amounts. She'd do a double take - maybe even a spit take and laugh. But I'd always get her. And she would get me back. This year was the best. I told her grandma gave me $100. And she believed it. Grandma's been gone for 9 years. I still got her! Lesson for that guy, yes, your siblings lie. Even me!
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I saw a production of the Wizard of Oz done by kids. The writer of this play must've been hitting the sauce - because instead of the Cowardly Lion getting a medal of bravery - he got a bottle of courage. A bottle of courage. Nice. How do you put that around your neck - like Angelina Jolie and her vial of Billy blood? My local liquor stores has lovely bottles of courage - all kind all prices - but I'm cutting down on liquid courage because it might be eating up my stomach. I was driving out to bumbletown last night for some emergency car repairs - my car door wouldn't stay closed, then when I got to the dealership, I had to crawl out the passenger door. Stuck at the dealership, I had some time to think. I wished I had some courage. Should I go to my therapist and get some of that Abilify I see on TV. A booster to your antidepressants. I take enough meds. Then, I had this image of an old fashioned pharmacy counter. And a kindly pharmacist. In his hands, there were the meds I needed. Courage, mental courage. Or just a positive thought. My stomach was hurting from the idea of emergency car repairs (and the bill the guy showed me) so on that counter I put some Pepto Bismol. And I remembered that old Pepto Bismol commercial that showed that pink crap coating your whole stomach. There I just had some mental Pepto. Wait, I want my cholesterol numbers to come down faster - so on that virtual counter, I took a boost of my statin drug. I've had such a hard time imaging my body healing. And then I found this free online pharmacy. Online in my head.
Now for some expensive moisturizer!
Monday, March 09, 2009
Friday, March 06, 2009
I was shoved in an oven today. Ok - not like Hansel and Gretl but an MRI machine looks like an oven. And stupidly, I always say to the nurse something like "Nothing Says Lovin' Like being shoved in an oven!" No one gets it. Then I get to spend about a half hour with my head inside the MRI. They can play music while you're inside but it's almost worthless unless the music is techno - because that's what it sounds like inside. Dunk dunk dunk dadadada daaa daaa. I was in the disco machine laughing at my own joke about being shoved in an oven and I thought of actual Easy Bake Ovens. I so wish that was my photo and my oven. As a child, I wanted one so badly. The sugar addict in me wanted to have a tiny personal private midnight bakery. Mom said no fucking way. Pretty much just like that. I could bake downstairs, in a real oven, with her supervision and nagging that chubby kids shouldn't eat so much. Besides it wouldn't make Hostess products. Or Little Debbie's. Or bad cheap grocery store birthday cake. So what's the point.
It was a fun thought to get me through disco oven techno hell.