Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Morphin' Time

I have had a lot of nightmares recently about losing teeth. I've been on an oral hygiene kick recently, and I'm not sure if the nightmares are causing this or if my attention to clean teeth are resulting in a fear of losing them all. I am reminded of the horrible fact that at one point in my life, tiny bone fragments from my tiny skull fell out of my mouth and I got paid for it. I remember how awesome it felt to have a tooth in my mouth that flapped with every breath I took. 

And then I remember how terrifying it was when I had to come to grips with it being pulled from my body. It was an exhausting ride. I remember having to psych myself up to actually get to a point where I was emotionally ready to pull a tooth out of my face. It was basically just like 127 Hours.  But there was a time when I didn't know those horrors. Back when I had all my baby teeth. 

One day at my Nana and Papa's house in Skokie my brother, dad and I were playing a rousing game of Power Rangers. I took a leap off of the sofa just as my dad pretended to punch me in the face. I landed swiftly into his fist and out popped my first tooth. 

Not knowing the side effects of losing a tooth, I was paralyzed in horror when I saw the amount of blood coming from my mouth. I thought that my Dad was trying to kill me. And then I wondered why the Power Rangers never bled. 

As for the rest of my baby teeth, I just remember a thinly veiled annoyance from my mother over my severe fear of a new bloodpit in my mouth. Kudos, Mom... I really can't imagine talking or helping a kid through losing a tooth. At all. I guess that having a tooth punched out during a game of Power Rangers is a pretty sweet alternative to a wet, bloody kleenex being shoved in your mouth. 

Friday, July 8, 2011

Talkin' about my View

Let me just say- comparing the premise of The View and The Talk is a nearly impossible task. The View features a panel of five female outspoken quasi-celebrities who spend every episode of their show speaking non-stop on any topic. The Talk features a panel of five female oustpoke.. Oh. I guess they're exactly the same premise. Never mind.

I guess the main difference is that I don't have to take an Advil in order to sit through an episode of The Talk.

It also seems the women of The View hate everything. Including each other.
Congratulations to the women of the entertainment world for creating talk shows in the form of boybands. Apparently, the formula works. Now if only the Spice Girls would start a discussion panel show, I'd have a new favorite series.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Sorry, I'm not sorry.

I realized that I have an awful habit of over-apologizing. Any time I feel like it would be appropriate for someone else to apoligize, I cover it for them. I don't think this is an altogether uncommon thing, but it happens all the time. 

I apologized to the fat woman who gave me an accidental lap dance by bumping into me with her front-butt at the movie theatre.

And I said "I'm sorry" to the elderly woman
with"Jewish Red" hair at the Jewel
when she rammed her shopping cart into my shin.

And I even apoligized to the rack of clothing I bumped into

at the thrift store. Twice. 

So I'm going to attempt and stop saying "I'm sorry". Not in general... I mean, when I don't mean to. Sorry.

I've also been on a huge genealogy kick recently, and after signing up for a well known ancestry search site I encountered a woman with who I share a great-great grandfather with. Her name is Ruth- she is 72 and she lives in the backwoods of Texas. We have been emailing pictures and stories about our common elders for the past week, and I am thrilled to haves such an unexpected link to the past!

Along with spending time researching my family history, I have also been spending time with family members that are actually still alive. My Fourth of July was nice, and was held at my house. Relatives came over to visit and Eric grilled up a classic American feast. I was reminded, yet again, of my severe love for food. The highlight of the day would have to be when I got my Nana to try on an old high school flag costume. The red, white and blue short-skirted dress was one of a few things I had salvaged from the High School costume purge. She ended up in the front yard in the sequined dress waving an American flag and singing "I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy." The whole thing was very Grey Gardens. Talk about a firework show!
We have fun family get-togethers.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Summer is NO BUMMER!

So tonight I am reinstating my sought after literature with a short blog to let all of my readers know that I am alive and well. Sorry I haven't written in so long... Sorry I'm not sorry.

I can offer some advice tonight, which I am sure many of you will find 5 years too late. If you are going to eat Burger King's tacos, please under no circumstances consume more than two of them. I know that Taco Bell has a reputation for leaving the bowels burned asunder, but I have never had a bad taco experience until tonight. Long story short, my mind was hungry, my body was not. I ordered 4 Burger King tacos and ate them all. Then 10 hours later...

As Adele would say... "There's a fire..."
I am going to attempt to write about something other than pooping in this blog- because I know that while my family members all enjoys discussing our... Alright. New subject.

I have been spending this summer relaxing at home, working at the funeral home and spending some quality time with my family. My brother, Eric (for those who have forgotten) is spending the summer living in his apartment at school. He's employed as a manager of a group of house painters, because apparently you can get promoted to a manager in three weeks time in that sort of industry. No offense, Eric. I'm proud of you, buddy. Maybe you can finally paint the front door with all your experience. It's covered in scuff marks from all the times I kick the door open to get in the house as quickly as possible to avoid being mauled by June-bugs.

I also had the privlege of going on a vacation early in the summer with my friend Danny and his mom. Spending a week at Fort Meyers beach was a true vacation, mainly because of the beaches and the alcohol. It was a more accurate definition of a vacation than past trips I've been on. One of many highlights was watching overweight, elderly women picking up sea shells on the beach at sunset with their gopher-grabbers.

After the romp in Florida, I had the chance to visit my old High School and help clean out the costume closet in order to make room for some renovations in the building. The costume closet consisted of nearly 5 decades of old rotting clothing with a few gems mixed in. After working for over 24 hours that weekend, we accomplished the cleaning goal with mild organization, a dumpster filled with useless costumes, and diseases that don't have names yet. It was wonderful.
So here's to you, Summer 2011. I've got a lot of stories that need some Microsoft Paint images to solidify their memory in my mind... so you, my dear reader, are in luck.


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