At home this week on staycation, which is fine by me. I'm gonna do some stuff, organize some junk, file some crap and shop for bras. Bra shopping may cause me to drink a lot, so I'm - like - festive!
The Love Light That You Shine On
Category Archives: This Never Happened To Pablo Picasso
Close As Three-Part Harmony
When emergency signals appear in store windows, super heroes grind their teeth.
Hit And Run Transmission
My first mistake was making an appointment to discuss cognitive function and memory loss. My second was to show up on time.
Tata: I have to ask a delicate question.
Receptionist: Why are we whispering?
Tata: Because I have to ask a delicate question. I had a 2:30 appointment with the clinician. A little while ago, he appeared in the doorway and a creepy guy sitting near me got up and followed him. It’s now 2:50 and if the creepy guy was not seeing the clinician, where did they both go? Is it possible the clinician double-booked his appointments?
Receptionist: I…I will go find out for you what happened.
The look of horror on her face told me a few things I didn’t expect to hear. She got up and disappeared down a hallway and a minute later the clinician appeared through the leaves of a potted plant near me. He said something astounding.
Young Doctor: Can you stay for a 3:15?
Tata: Absolutely not.
Young Doctor: You can’t? We’re very busy.
Tata: No. You can call me in the morning at my work number, if you think we should reschedule.
Young Doctor: I’m seeing people every fifteen minutes to accommodate everyone.
Tata: Nathan, we are not off to a good start.
My knitting and I flounced off in a huff. A few hours later, Nathan called on my cell phone. It was not morning and I was not at work. This time, I was prepared to torment him properly.
Tata: Nathan, if you make an appointment with me, you should be ready to see me at that time.
Nathan: I’m very sorry.
Tata: If we can’t agree on that, there’s no sense agreeing on anything else.
Nathan: You’re right, you’re right. I’m very sorry. Sometimes technology gets away from me.
Tata: Nathan, I burned a vacation day to see you.
Nathan: You did? That makes it worse.
I did not say, “Pumpkin, I had 50 of them and my department head has lectures me about dragging my ass outside and vacationing like I mean it.” What, are you kidding? I’m training this kid to take his patients seriously.
Tata: Fine, what sort of time commitment are we talking about for this appointment?
Nathan: The first one is a brief interview, then there are two three-hour tests. We should probably spread those out. The first one we can do by phone.
Tata: That sounds great, since I can recline and eat bonbons. At which, I am great.
Nathan: I get out of clinic at 8:30 p.m. on Wednesday. Is that a bad time to speak?
Tata: That is an excellent time to talk on the phone since I am guaranteed to have discouraged everyone else from talking to me on the phone after dinner. Unless someone’s dead. That better be the reason someone calls me at night.
Nathan: Let’s call it 8:45, then.
Tata: Wednesday, 8:45 it is. Now there’s just one last thing about this cognitive testing you’ll have to know.
Nathan: What’s that?
Tata: You’re going to have to forgive me if I forget to answer the phone.
Don’t Forget To Pack A Wife
One day, I will be a little blue-haired great-grandmother tooling around the old domestic castle, warbling Holiday In Cambodia.
When All the World’s Asleep the Questions Run
There’d Never Be A Love Song
A little over an hour ago, I was trying to move around a bit so I wouldn’t feel like I’d spent the day in bed again. In the living room, I was polishing my nails and waiving my arms like a jet-propelled lunatic while Thursday’s General Hospital lurched to its inevitable conclusion. Sweetpea lay on the couch, licking her paws. Topaz sat on the sideboard, bathed in the golden afternoon light and looking back at me. Some time later, time measured perhaps in minutes or seconds, I looked back and saw no cat on the sideboard. A lot of tiny things happened very quickly in a row:
– I stopped what I was doing and walked to the open window where I saw
– a hole in the screen about the size of a six-pound cat
– without thinking, I looked at Sweetpea on the couch and walked up the stairs to find Drusy
– who met me on the stairs, and I stared at her
– then I kept walking up, hoping to see Topaz, who is often invisible.
– When I got to the attic, winded, and did not see Topaz, I did not panic. I came downstairs.
– Without thinking, I looked at Sweetpea.
– Thinking I was doing things out of order, I walked outside and saw nothing.
– Thinking I was overreacting, I walked across the strip of grass that passes for my front lawn and around the side of the house, where I saw nothing.
– Thinking I should go back in the house, I found myself standing on a corner of the sidewalk when I saw a tiny face peek out from the far, dark side of my back porch and I wasn’t one hundred percent sure who it was.
– Suddenly, my heart was in my throat. I called, “Topaz? My darling?”
– The face starting running toward me and hissed, then became Topaz in the light.
– I scooped her up and carried her to the front of the house. She fought me the whole time. I lost my grip on her once I was inside the vestibule, but before the door had closed behind me. For a moment, I wondered if I had just lost her again
– but I opened the inside door and she ran inside.
– Once the crisis was averted, I sat down in the living room and had a flaming nauseous panic attack.
This worked out well because I didn’t listen to rational me and I acted before I thought about how I was going to feel about any outcome.
To no one's surprise: not talking.
On the bright side: my lungs worked great while I was hyperventilating.
Watching the Wheels
The laptop is a paper weight, so posting might be interesting for a few days. Rumor has it other, normal people can post from their phones, but it takes me a year to type a sentence on my phone. This morning, I couldn’t get the thing to show me locations and hours for the store I was proposing to empty into my trunk, so I had to simply show up with legal tender and hope for the best. Generally speaking, hopeful is not an excellent way to enter into transactions.
Today, I gathered up my coupons and went on my annual pilgrimage to Harmon Discount Beauty Supplies, where I think we can agree I buy a lot of beauty. I say without shame I spent hours there, reading labels and choosing exactly what products I wanted to try out, what old favorites I’d stick by and discerning what the spring nail polish collections were doing, color-wise. Pete was working at the bagel shop, which saved him from what would certainly have amounted to blackout-inducing tedium, but probably wouldn’t have protected him from the almost seismic shock to my checking account. When I described it to him later, Pete said, “It’s your money. You can spend it how you like. Or bail out Greece.” Yes, I watched it add up, add up and add up while thinking about those coupons lying on the counter between me and the cashier like a lottery ticket. The grand total should have been alarming, but then she started scanning the coupons, a little doubtful at first that the register would accept them. After a few $5 coupons went through, she said, “I’m just going to scan them until it tells me to stop.” Her plan sounded great to me and when she was done, the register recalculated the total from the beginning and off came just about $56. If my husband finds that yard-long register tape, he might pass out anyway and I am not exaggerating even a tiny, tiny bit.
When the Heat Dies Down
Photo: Doug Vizthum. Used by permission.
This sign currently adorns the front of the now-closed bar. At some point in the future, I imagine I will be able to talk about the feelings this sign inspired, but right now, I simply can’t. I’m afraid if I start, I won’t stop or I’ll remember how much anger I had or how much I miss that life or I’ll realize once I left there never was any going back. Yep, I can’t think about that now. I’ve got work to do and I’m through sleeping on the sidewalk.
A Walk Down In the Moonlight
Last night, the rumor floated that our little slice of drunken, scandalous, punk rock Heaven is history this morning. Well, shit.
And Back On the Road Again
This really happened:
Ex-Brief Beau: Hey Ta! Were you in the drug store yesterday? I thought I saw your butt.
Tata: I think my butt was with me the whole time and neither of us was in the drug store yesterday.
EBB: I thought I saw your butt.
Tata: My current butt or the butt I had when I had a great butt?
EBB: Your current butt. I thought I saw it.
Tata: Nope, my butt wasn’t in the drug store yesterday.
EBB: Thank god I didn’t say something and make a fool out of myself.
Poor Impulse Control 