Thursday, December 31, 2009

In and Out The New Year

I just want to clear a few things up, this the last day of 2009. First of all after I posted yesterday Kahuna reminded me that many of you do not know what an In and Out Burger is. He slowly, as if speaking to a two year old, explained that many of you out there in the blogland have never had the pleasure of speaking InandOutese. You see in order to order a meal at In and Out Burger, did you just hear a choir of angels, you must know HOW to order.

Notice nowhere on the menu does it mention Animal Style?
It is a secret language.

Those of you who live in the land of fruits and nuts know the drill. You sidle up to the counter where a bright young person will say “may I take your order” to which you will respond “yes I would like a four by four animal style with extra animal sauce.” What will then ensue is a bevy of fresh young faces will scurry around a sparkling clean kitchen area and within seconds they will call your name. You will arrive at the pick up counter and sitting in a vat of thousand island dressing will be two, yes count them TWO, double double burgers with grilled onions and American cheese. What you ask is a double double? Well a double double is a burger with two patties dripping in sauce with American cheese.

Can I just take a moment here to ask what exactly IS American cheese? It states on the packaging that it is a cheese product. Now lard is a pork product that is actually just pig fat. Is American cheese the cheese fat? Why is it that color? Which leads me to ask what exactly is that dried cheese stuff that comes in boxes of macaroni and cheese and why do I love it so? Is it really crack with mustard colored food coloring? I digress, I know big surprise.

I am not the only person who has a special place in their hearts or should I say taste buds for In and Out burgers. I know I have an affliction and affection for them because my cholesterol levels are in the six digit figures and so is the size of my rear-end. Nay many of us left coasters love the bright yellow half arrow and the big red letters. We can nary scoot by one without our beloved vehicle pulling into the drive thru lane and without even thinking the words “four by four animal style” has passed our lips. This is obvious by the size of our residents. Yeah no longer is the rest of the country singing “I wish they all could be California girls..” because honestly have you SEEN California girls and guys lately. Um Yeah, tan doesn’t always make fat look better.

Many famous people talk about the In and Out experience. Recently Tom Hanks was on Conan O'Brian. He nashed on and on about In and Out actually bringing a catering truck to the set at three in the morning and the cast and crew stopping all production to get their animal style fix.

Then there are references to the In and Out love in television shows such as CSI when they solve a crime with an In and Out burger.

Two and a Half Men have featured the famous palm treed cup and red and white bag. Not to mention, although I am anyway, I believe I actually saw them flash a burger bag on Big Bang Theory. It is an addiction and an affliction of which I speak.

Oh I know what you are thinking, well Ms. Smartypants way out there in California, you have never tasted a White Castle, or Sonic, or What-a-burger. Oh but I have. I love each one for different reasons. I like White Castle for their sliders. Sonic because of the way they drip them in mustard and have the very best tasting drinks and you can sit in your car and eat them while your car hop skates by offering extra ketchup and mustard. I love What-a-burger because, well have you ever tasted their meat? I guess that I love the one I’m closest to when it comes to burgers. Honestly though nothing cures a hangover faster than a greasy hamburger and equally greasy fries. Nurse Meme taught me that one.

Secondly to round up 2009 I would like to thank each and every one of my faithful readers. You have been most supportive and encouraging. Thank you all for you kind words and helpful criticism.

Lastly remember this, if you drink don’t drive and if you drive don’t drink. Also remember to tip the waitstaff. Oh and if you have a hangover when you wake up tomorrow send someone out to get you a greasy hamburger and fries for breakfast.

Happy New Year Y’all!

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

In Which Gladys Goes Animal Style

Today I’m going to talk about me. Me in the first person. Me in the here and now. I know you are thrilled aren’t you? Okay so here is the deal I am going to see a breast specialist today. No I know Kahuna is a breast specialist but I’m seeing one with a bunch of letters behind his name. How does one become a breast specialist? Does one raise one’s hand during medical school when the instructor says “who wants to share their goals?” Does the geekiest intern who never had a date raise his hand and snicker “I want to work with boobs!” The instructor then says “well that is wonderful. So you are going to work for the government in health-care?” The geeky soon-to-be doctor snickers again and says “no, I mean breastestth. You know mammaries.” Snicker snicker. Then next thing you know old Jed’s a millionaire, oh wait wrong song.

This is not the first breast specialist I’ve seen. You see back in the summer I had a smashogram that was abnormal. Now I don’t know who this Abby Normal person is but I wish she would leave my boobs alone. The imaging center had a coronary then called me back and asked for another smooshing session which I did. This one came back even less than normal. I tried to tell them that I am not normal, have never been normal and don’t think it is even possible for me to be normal. Helloooo! I was found under a rock! How un-normal is that? The imaging center didn’t want to hear my story of being found under a rock and sent me back to see Dr. Wonderful. She, who never gets her panties in a wad, started fidgeting and tugging and evidently had put her thong on backwards that day because she threw me out of her office and on the road to a “breast specialist”.

I arrived at a very plush and opulent physician’s office and was ushered in pictures of my boobs in hand to an exam room. There they threw me on the table and smooshed my boobs around some more. I tried to tell the “breast specialist” that I was found under a rock. That the mass they were seeing was probably just a peach pit or possibly the root of the 17 foot hair growing from my left nipple. Okay stopped giggling like a twelve year old, nipple is just a word. STOP IT! NIPPLE NIPPLE NIPPLE! There did you get it out yet? Wait I haven’t. Okay, I’m better now. The B.S. and the R.N. talked about my lady hangers as if I wasn’t there. They tisked and the tasked and then they had me get dressed. B.S. looks me in the eye and says “You must have a sterotropic biopsy, right away! First an MRI then a biopsy and then a mastectomy” I heard “Blah, blah, blah, stereophonic, blah, blah, right away after you stop and get a In and Out burger and a cup of coffee.” So I repeated this back to the B.S. who sighed heavily and spoke to me as if I were a two year old. “No, I said you must have blah blah blah…” I shook my head yes and started to go to the front counter and pay my bazillion dollars for this great advice.

My eyes were glazed over and my checkbook was open. That is when the office manager asked me what type of insurance I had. I stuttered and stammered and said “I don’t have insurance. I am a victim of a misdiagnosis and since some doctor said I was a dwarf, who obviously I’m not, I can not get insurance.” That is when I heard the squeal and the screech of my health care coming to a sudden and horrific halt. The B.S. stopped order issuing about scheduling my MRI and my stereophonic In and Out Burger. She looked at me and said “You don’t have insurance?” I weakly smiled and said “no.” This is when she shook my hand, wished me luck and scooted me out the door. “Wait, I screamed” as I was being pushed to the parking lot “what about my stereophonic In and Out burger? What about the peach pit I my left boob? What about the seventeen foot long hair growing from my nipple?” The doctor smiled and said “sorry, I can’t help you” and then giggled like a twelve year old boy and exclaimed “she said nipple!”

I crawled into my car and explained the whole scenario to Kahuna who sat mouth agape in horror and frustration. I mean how were we going to get a stereophonic In and Out burger now? What IS a stereophonic In and Out Burger and how does it determine breast cancer? We drove back to Dr. Wonderful and asked for her advice. She laid her hands on me and she said “here do this Emotional Freedom Technique. Tap here and repeat after me. Even though I might have breast cancer, I’m good enough, smart enough and dog gone it people like me.” I immediately followed her advice because as I have said I always do as I am told. Then she told us that we could try to go through the Every Woman Counts program.

I immediately got on the phone and called the Susan G. Komen foundation and the EWC program and the parents without partners and the FBI and anyone else that might have information or aide. This is what I found out. I don’t qualify for PWP because, duh I have a partner. I don’t qualify for aide from the FBI

because those are really just a bunch of rednecks walking around with t-shirts that say “F.B.I.” which stands for female body inspectors and who in reality have nothing to do with any government program but do cruise for women at parents without partners. I didn’t qualify for the EWC program because my husband works for a living. Finally the Komen foundation could do nothing for me because I didn’t have the diagnosis of “cancer” yet but a chipper voice said to call her back as soon as I got that particular diagnosis and she would be happy to help. My choices were to divorce Kahuna and apply as an indigent woman or to find a job that would let me apply for health insurance. Now the reason I stopped working several years ago was because of my health and yet they were telling me to go find a job in the state with the highest unemployment and add that stress to my already panicked life.

I think something is amiss here and as soon as I figure it out I’ll let you know. Oh and I still didn’t have my stereophonic In and Out burger, even though I now had three learned physicians telling me it was imperative to have this procedure or risk certain death.

I humbly went into my shower and began doing my EFT tapping and crying. What do I do? I can not get a doctor to see me without insurance and I can’t get insurance without a job. I can’t get a job because honestly who would hire a woman that was found under a rock, has a peach pit in her left boob and a seventeen foot long hair growing from said nipple? Tell me WHO? No really because I could use the extra income and of course the insurance. I want to tell you all that I know my body pretty well. I have had many ailments in my past and have always had that gut feeling that something was wrong. This time I didn’t have that gut feeling. Yes I have a family history of the big “c” and I am probably genetically pre-disposed to having it. I have suffered my whole life with fibril cystic disease and auto-immune diseases, yet this did not feel like anything to be worried about.

Every other week the B.S. office would call and ask if I had gotten insurance. Every other week my answer was the same. I’m working on it. Every other week Dr. Wonderful called me and asked if I had gotten my stereophonic In and Out burger and every other week I answered I’m working on it. She would regale me with tells of double mastectomies, bone cancer, brain cancer, lung cancer and so on. Every week I would go into my shower and stand and cry. I called doctor after doctor, specialist after specialist and they all said the same thing. Gee you really need to get a stereophonic In and Out burger but you don’t have insurance so I can’t help you. Good luck with that and call us back if you get health insurance.

So what I wanted to tell you is today I’m going to see a doctor about scheduling a stereophonic In and Out burger. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Just The Facts 12-28-09

There are a million stories in the city.


"The story you are about to hear is true; only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.")

The Flathead Beacon:

Police Blotter for the week ending 12-29-09

A sampling of crime briefs from the Kalispell Police and Flathead County Sheriff’s reports…by Heather Jurvis (comments by Gladys)

Monday 12/21/2009

4:04 a.m. A suspicious male subject wandered around Whitefish. Authorities found that the man had merely gotten lost on his way home from a local bar.
What do you want to bet he was singing “Show me the way to go home, I’m tired and I want to go to bed. I had a little drink about an hour ago and it went right to my head…”

Tuesday 12/22/2009
11:28 a.m. A 16-year-old in Somers threatened her drunken mother with violence. Authorities arrived to find that the girl did not have a weapon.
Now why would she threaten such a fine example of parenting?
3:12 p.m. Someone called to report that their chainsaw had fallen from the back of their truck on Lost Creek Road. The chainsaw has not yet been located.
Duh! That’s why it’s LOST Creek road, it’s not FOUND Creek Road.
2:01 a.m. A resident of Maple Drive was unable to get to sleep, as his ex-wife refused to quite calling him on the phone and inquiring about their children.
Once again people don’t answer the phone. Block the call whatever but call 9*1*1*?
2:22 a.m. A man and his ex-wife engaged in a verbal altercation on Maple Drive.
See above.
Wednesday 12/23/2009
12:03 p.m. A skier was reported missing after going out-of-bounds on Whitefish Mountain. The individual has since been located.
Who called him out of bounds? The ski referee?
4:33 p.m. Someone on Truman Height’s Road drove across their neighbor’s property.
Maybe he couldn’t see the road.
5:26 p.m. An 84-year-old man took a little extra time in driving around the block. The anxious reporting party requested a welfare check.
Oh wait I think I know who drove across his neighbors yard.
Thursday 12/24/2009

11:08 a.m. A woman on Bierney Creek Road reports that her husband violated his restraining order and threatened her over the phone.
Merry Christmas honey..

4:27 p.m. A resident of Trumbull Canyon Road in Columbia Falls was displeased to find that someone had blocked the driveway with their vehicle. The reporting party later called back to cancel the call.
I guess he decided to take matters into his own hands..
6:23 p.m. A car caught fire but was extinguished by the local fire department.
And this was the result.
12:46 a.m. A suspicious vehicle on Buckboard Lane was gone when authorities arrived.
Maybe it was Santa. I like Santa…

2:06 a.m. An unwanted intoxicated transient pounded on the door of an apartment on Highway 35. Authorities encouraged him to move along.
Maybe it was Santa, I like Santa.

Monday 12/28/2009

12:48 a.m. An intoxicated male subject walked out onto the Whitefish River and fell through the ice. The man was rescued and taken to the hospital.
This action was preceeded by the statement “Hey Y’all WATCH THIS. Can someone hold my beer?”
2:19 a.m. An unwanted intoxicated transient was banging on doors at a local apartment complex.
Santa? Is that YOU? You’re late!

2:33 a.m. Two men in front of a local pizzeria refused to stop fighting until the responding officer deployed a taser. Both subjects were escorted to jail.
How long do you think that officer waited to use his tazer? I can see it now he is on the radio to his boss:
Can I PLEASE? It will be my Christmas bonus.

11:18 a.m. A man showed up at a residence on Mallard Loop and threatened his wife of five months. Everyone was calm when authorities arrived.

I thought Charlie Sheen was in Aspen.
12:54 p.m. A 16-year-old girl refused to get into her parents’ car in Columbia Falls. The parents requested that authorities help “make her mind.”
How many times do I have to repeat myself? PARENT YOUR CHILDREN! JEEZE!

Monday, December 28, 2009

Zis is Ze Story

It is me, ze Boz, I am writing to you of my rescue.

Ze woman she is, how you say, sleeping and I have taken over her what you call dis ding, a blogz. You see I must tell you my story and warn you of ze terrorist zat are out zere.

I was born one of many puppies to my mater. My mater she was a bitch and my papa, I do not know. The terrorist would often just call me zat little bastard. Zey say my papa may have been a Bichon or a poodle, no one know for sure. I was born into captivity. Jess into a life of being held prisoner. One day ze terrorist put many of us into a sleep and zen zey stuffs us into holes in a truck. We zen went for a very long drive. Ze next ding I know we are into a new land. Ze terrorist take us to a place wid many of my kind. A woman she pay and puts us into windows. I am jess a puppy but I know zis is not ze life for me.

photo curtesy of

One day a person comes into my window and takes me. I have never lived outsize ze cage. I have only been in prison since day I born. Dis person takes me to his home. He let me run around ze house. I do what puppies do. I chew on ze walking feet covers, how you say shoes. I play wid ze paper roller things in ze toilet. I do not know what ze outsize is about, so I poop in ze floor next to ze toilet. I see ze man poop in ze toilet, I think I am safe. Then ze man starts to beat me. He beat for relieving myself. He beat me for chewing, he scream at me for everyzing. I cower and submit not so much because I am afraid but because he is ze alpha. Zer on many utter puppies in ze man’s home. They do not wish to play zey only wish to take my food. I get very ill and can not conjure up the strength to play. I am still a prisoner.

photo curtesy of carekorea.files

I watch ze man as he comes and goes. He opens ze door and goes outsize. I wait and watch. I am quick, much quicker zen ze man. He goes out his door and I dash out and hize. He does not look for me too much. He has many utters to tend to and goes back insize. Zat is when I sneak away. I wonzer ze streets and forage for food. I am hiding in ze bushes when a whole group of chemineau or as you say hoe-ze-beaux approach me. Zey take me in and I wonzer ze streets wid zem. We together protect and keep each other company. There is Lucky who is an injured terrier. He has been hit by a car and has only trios’ limbs zat work. We help him to find food and to hize from ze terrorist who look for us constantly. It is tiring being on ze lamb.

Zen one day it happens. Ze terrorist find Lucky, he can not get away. I like Lucky and I run forward to protest them taking him. I snarl and growl but ze man in ze uniform scoops me into a noose and sticks me back into prison. I yell and scream to ze utters to run away. Lucky and I together we make such a ruckus they squirt us wid ze water. Zey take us to a building with others like us. It is full of chemineau who are doing time. Each tells me their story often much like my own. Zen zere are ze stories zat break my heart. Zey are ze ones who talk of a good life, one which food is abundant and zey have a nice soft bed to sleep in. Zen one day their people leave and never come back. The furniture is gone, the dishes which they lick clean disappear and zey are left alone in a house to starve. Zey do not understand why dis happened. Butch a rather feminine bulldog tells of his people and sobs when he talks of zem leaving him behind. He watched out the window as the car pulled away. He blames himself. He thinks it is because he had too much flatulence. He drove his people away with his bad tummy. Then there was Scotch the Wiemerimer who survived by eating the siding from the house. He is very sick now and does not think he will live out his sentence.

The people in this prison talk about who is going to go next. They come into our cells and remove us one by one and we are never seen again. I am sure they are executing them. They want us to talk and tell where the rest of the resistance is hiding. I will never tell. I have a sworn allegiance to the chemineau. Then a group of ladies come in and begin putting us into very small crates. They pack us into them and put us into the back of a car. I am positive this is it for me. I am coughing more regular now and have not eaten in days. I tell Scotch zat we must be going to ze fire squad. I bid adieu to my copain. Ze women zey remove me from ze cage where a physician is standing by. He puts me into a zeep sleep and zen I know I am fin’.

I wake up in ze clinque. I am how you say, groggy. I look around and zen I look down. Zey have maimed me. I am missing my manly parts. What kind of monsters are zese women? I see Lucky in a cell across from me. I call to him, he looks up at me with his big brown eyes and he tells me zey have removed his front leg. He slips back into a deep sleep as I peer around ze room at my copains in ze cells. Scotch is waking when I call to him he calls back. He too has had his manly parts removed. Zey can cut off what zey want but I will never give up the where abouts of ze reistance. Zey are ruthless zese monsters, first cut of ze manz coquilles, or as you say ballz, zen his feets, what is next ze tongue? I can not help myself; I fall back into a deep sleep. When I wake I am no longer in ze clinque. I am in a home. I am still in a cell but zere are people forcing drugs into me and zey are cooing to me. I am not fooled, zey are part of ze terrorist, I lay in my cell and wait for ze moment when I can escape once again.

Ze next ting I know I am again placed in a cell wiz trios utters. Zey are Spanish and are what you call Cheewhaawees. We are outside and zere are many peoples walking by. Ze Spaniards are yelling and calling; I sit quiet and in ze back of ze cell. I do not call attention to myself, so zat when ze cage is opened I might escape. Zere is a frizzy headed woman, she is looking to me. I hide further in ze cell, but she comes closer. Zen she opens ze cage and I jump into her arms. Zis is my chance. I will jump into her arms and zen escape, but she smells nice. She is warm and soft. I am so tired and ill. I zink if I can jess rest my head for a moment. I press my snout into her neck and she holds me tighter and rubs my neck and back. It feels good. I decide not to protest. I fall fast asleep again. When I wake I am still being held by ze frizzy haired woman. She is talking to ze woman who took my manly parts. She is signing papers and paying a ransom. Zen she wraps me into her coat and she and her man carries me to a vehicle. Zey place me ze vehicle and take me to a new location. Have I been traded to new terrorist, I wonder, but again I am too sick to protest. I am taken into a warm room with a fluffy bed and lots of blankets. I snuggle down when in comes two copains.

Ze first is a strong female. She sniffs me and pushes me with her snout. “What are you doing here” she asks in our silent language. I sniff back and answer “I am but a prisoner aren’t you?” Ze female snorts and says “you have got it all wrong. You are not a prisoner. You are now a prince. You see I too was a prisoner before being brought to this place. Now I am a queen. I have everything I desire. You too will see in time that you are the master of these people. Now little man lay your head down and sleep.”

Zat is how I became ze Prince of Ze Chateau De Kahuna. Where I am catered to and revered.  Zat is my story and I am sticking to it.  Viva La Resistiance!

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Gladys has Postpartum Random Thoughts

I know I know it is Saturday and I’m late for Mrs. 4444’s Friday Fragments. I got distracted sitting in front of the television watching the Hallmark Channel Christmas movie marathon. So go link your Friday to her Friday even though it is Saturday.


First of all have you seen that horrible commercial with the run over animals? Who the hell thought this was a good campaign? I know it wasn’t Don Draper.

What did the pitch for the ad sound like?

Hey lets frighten children and gross out people by showing a bunch of cartoon animals all ran over and squished trying to drag themselves off the road.


Next let me just wish all of you a belated Merry Christmas and a Happy Tadpole Eve. Yes tomorrow is Tadpole’s birthday. She was almost a Christmas baby.


I pretty much avoided going any where this past week what with the Christmas madness out there. I did however have to go buy groceries. I was standing in line at the local big box store waiting to check out when I spied a man who looked a little familiar. He had a white beard, rosy cheeks and a big belly that shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly. I think I know him but can’t remember from where.


Did y’all hear, shut up yes I just said y’all, that Charlie Sheen spent Christmas day in jail? I think maybe he is taking his character of Charlie Harper too seriously.

This appeared in the New York Times


I have been making a list of what my New Year Resolution for 2010 will be. I always try to make ones that I will keep. I mean what says failure more than breaking your resolution on January 2nd because you really needed that 47th cup of coffee.

So I am thinking this year my resolution is going to be to remember to breath. No I didn’t chew the Wonka Gum in the blueberry stage or trying out for a part in Avatar, I just forgot to breath. Hey don’t smirk, I some time forget to do just that, so if you see me turning blue remind me to breath.


So what did Santa bring you for Christmas?

Otin hosts his Happy Hour Friday over at the Wizard of Otin. Hopefully I’m not too late for that too.

My Bestest Christmas present this year was not really a present.  It didn't come wrapped, packaged or tied with a bow.  My Christmas present was not having to Christmas shop.  It was bliss.

Even though it did not look like this in
Socal it was still bliss. (This is what my porch looked like last year)

Remembering the reason for the season.  Yes that's right big plastic Jesus on top of a snow covered mountain.

Remember thoughts become things,  think good ones.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

An Alfred and Monroe Christmas Story

Alfred and Monroe grew up together. They terrorized the school and romanced all the girls at North Park school. They loved one another like brothers and as they grew up got married and had children their children and spouses all came to feel the same as the two men did about one another. They were thick as thieves, close as capers and as loving as lemmings. Wait are lemmings loving?

This story took place some years ago when Buck, my older brother, and Bird, Monroe’s oldest daughter, were in the Franklin Junior High School Christmas Choir Extravaganza. There on the stage stood the two older offspring of Alfred and Monroe. The two families sat close to one another announcing one another’s arrivals with hails of “Alfred, how the heck are you! I haven’t seen you in a coons age. Hows the wife. Oh there she is” to be met with “Monroe you look great. You couldn’t tell you just had a complete hemrhoidectomy.” This would be broadcast loud and clear through out the reverberating assembly hall of the junior high even though the two families had just eaten dinner together and arrived at the same time.

It was during this time that the youngest offspring of Alfred was having a little trouble with his “t’s” and “f’s”. Now John Darling would get his f’s confused and say things like “if’s frue” instead of “it’s true”. It was also this very season that he at the ripe old age of five had made his very own Christmas wish list. Now what was on every young man’s list at the age of five way back in 1967? There would have been cap guns, spurs and chaps and of course every good cowboy needs some firefighting equipment because evidently cowboys and fire fighters go together like peas and carrots. It was also the Christmas that Brother Dave, the bathtist preacher, attended the Christmas Choir Extravaganza and decided that he needed to sit right next to Alfred’s family.

Brother Dave sat down next to little John Darling and said “well young man how is your Christmas so far.” John Darling looked up from under his bright red eyelashes and said “Tine, jisf tine. I gof my cwissmuf wisf all tinished.” Brother Dave, returned the smile and tousled the tikes bright red hair and said “Well I hope you get each and everything on that list.” Hearing this Monroe couldn’t resist and hollered from two rows back “Hey John Darling, what are you getting from Santa?”

The little red haired boy jumped up in his seat and said “Hey Uncle Monroe! I’s gonna gef a gun daf shoofs real bullefs and some chafs and some Gee Eyed Joes and a BIG RED FIRE F**K!” The auditorium went silent except for Alfred’s wife’s face who you could hear turning red. Brother Dave blew out a big breath and Doobie, Monroe’s wife, drew in a deep breath. What with all the stopping of whispering and face turnings and the in and outs of breaths little John Darling had the rooms attention and he repeated it again so each and every family could hear what Santa was bringing him for Christmas. “Uncle Monroe, did ju hear me? I’s gaffing a big RED FIRE F**K!”

Monroe picked himself up from rolling around on the floor and while holding his sides he yelled back at little John Darling “I hope you get what you asked for and would you ask Santa to bring me one too?”

Merry Christmas from Alfred and Monroe and me, we hope Santa brings you everything on your Christmas list.  I know I for one would be happy with a good old fashion Christmas Truck.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Feeling Less Screwged.

Okay I’m going to come clean. I have a confession to make. First of all forgive me blogger for I have thinned. It has been 3 days since my last blog. Since my last blog I have suffered from a fit of PMS, poor me syndrome, and have taken the name blogger in vain. I have had un-clean thoughts about Myface and Twatter.

Secondly I have not felt very Festivuses. I really haven’t in quite a long time. I faked it for several years but then just gave up the ghost, the ghost of Christmas present that is, and stopped even faking it. I felt that it has become all about stuff. How many of you are living under this pressure that you have to go out and buy a bunch of stuff for a bunch of people who really don’t need anymore stuff and are out doing the same thing. The end result is everyone now has a bunch of stuff they didn’t need or necessarily want. Then the day after Christmas they all run down to the local haberdashery and exchange or return all that stuff that you spent your precious time going and fighting some woman in her bathrobe and slippers at two o’clock in the morning at the super early bird super saver black Friday sale. Now I realize it was totally not your fault that you gave her two black eyes and a bloody nose, I mean she totally deserved it after she took the last Shishu pet or whatever the heck that stupid mechanical hamster is called. Oh and kudos for you for actually wrestling one away from the seventy-eight year-old granny who was buying the last one in the country for her terminally ill grandson in Poughkeepsie at least little Bobby will have one under his tree.

Bitter much? Why would you think that, because I still haven’t forgotten the pony I wanted when I was 8 and begged Santa for which never appeared under the Christmas tree and he left me sheets instead. SHEETS! Sheets and pony do not sound anything alike and I think Nurse Meme was just making excuses for Santa when she told me he was hard of hearing. Um, well let’s not go into that here. I’ll deal with that later in therapy.

What I wanted to do is tell you a story of what I believe the season should be about. Heck what it should be all year long.

Gladys headed out to see Lola of the Cabana, the hair whisperer, to get her hair did. It was a cold and blustery day in sunny southern California and she dressed appropriately putting on closed toed shoes. She drove to the local Starbucks and waited behind the four hundred sixty-seven cars in the drive thru until it was at last her turn to place her order. Gladys hadn’t really been paying much attention to the line building behind her but noticed that the good people at Starbucks had placed an actual person outside in the below sixty-degree frigid weather to take orders and move the line along a little faster. The Barista approached Gladys vehicle and inquired for her order. Gladys ordered a Venti Egg-nog latter and a Chi Tea for Lola. Gladys reached into her purse and as she did she glanced the car behind her in line. There was a woman who was about the age Nurse Meme would be and had a similar hair style. Gladys got a little teary eyed and told the barista “I would like to pay for the lady behind me.” The barista looked up from adjusting her microphone and said “what was that?” Gladys pointed behind her and said “Whatever the woman behind me orders put it on my bill. I’ll pay for it.” The barista smiled and said “sure, hey Happy Holidays.” Gladys thanked her and did as she was instructed, because she always does as she is told, and drove forward. She arrived at the window and the girl in the window said “hey are you the lady who paid for the car behind you?” Gladys said she was and the barista said “that is so cool. It is now nine cars deep.” Gladys cocked her head to the side in confusion “excuse me?” The manager came to the window and said “it has been passed nine cars deep and it’s still going. That is the first time that has ever happened. Oh and a lady inside heard what you did and she paid for three people in line behind her. So Merry Christmas to you.” Gladys wiped a tear from her eye took her coffees and said “Merry Christmas to you too.”

As she drove out of sight she took a big swig from her coffee and screamed “damn that’s hot!”

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Gladys Tells All: Thank You Meme

Gladys Tells All: Thank You Meme

The Things Meme Taught Me

Every morning when I wake up the first thing I do is, well it’s not the FIRST first thing but one of the first things I do is check my crackberry for messages. I read my emails while my coffee is brewing. This morning I found this on my messages.

To: Mom

From: Tadpole

Subject: Things Meme Taught Me

How to tell someone "f* you" and mean it.
How to paddle a butt
How to be kind and generous when no one is looking
How to annoy the piss out of your husband (my personal fav lol)
Take life by the horns and make it work
Put your big girl panties on and deal with it

Things my mom taught me:
Always look for the best in people
Love everyone cause they will be gone sooner than you think
Dont sweat the small stuff
Enjoy what you have, because you may lose it.

It made me weep. It made me weep because my mom, Nurse Meme, has been gone for three years.

It amazes me that she has been gone that long. I think of her every day and dream of her most nights. Yes she is often in my dreams, no make that she is usually in my dreams. When we travel in the motorhome she is always in my dreams. I’m not sure if that is my psyche wishing she were with me or if it is her spirit ready for the adventure. She loved traveling in the motorhome. She and Trooper Bob accompanied by his sister, Auntie V, took a trip the year before my mother passed. I have never seen her eyes light up or her smile as big as when she told me about her trip. She beamed when she told me things she saw and did. The wonders of Yellowstone National Park, the beauty of the Canadian Rockies were all enhanced when told through her eyes. She was ill that summer. I think she knew how sick she was but didn’t let on. You see my mother didn’t sleep a whole lot. She was a night owl and was ever moving. You would literally have to tie her to a chair to get her to sit down and watch a movie. She just had to be moving, cleaning, gardening, ironing and constantly in motion. She drank a million cups of coffee a day which would keep me moving. That summer she seemed to slow down. She took more naps and rested more. She let weeds grow in her garden and the floor go un-vacuumed. Heck she even left laundry un-ironed. I should have seen the signs but didn’t.

Nurse Meme taught me so many things. She taught me that life isn’t fair. She taught me that in marriages arguments are never equal and that is why you should always have a big iron skillet in your kitchen. I wish I would have implemented that when my ex-asshusband stuffed my face in a pot of hot spaghetti. I wish I would have listened more intently, paid more attention to her quips of wisdom. I wish that I would have taken more time to learn her way of doing things instead of rolling my eyes and saying “what difference does it make if you cut an onion on the side instead of on the round?” She was meticulous in everything she did, a true perfectionist. She was a clean freak and a neat freak. I was always a gatherer and a clutter-er. She would ask me why? Why do you need all that STUFF? What good is it?

Nurse Meme also taught me that you can’t change the past only improve the future. She would say would-of, could-of, should-of won’t change shit, but taking responsibility for yourself and making sure you don’t make those mistakes again make you a better person. She also taught me you are who you hang out with. This is another one of those things I wish I would have listened to more intently. Truer words were never spoken. Oh it doesn’t mean if you hang out with assholes you will become an asshole, it means if you hang out with them then that is what others will perceive you to be. Guilty by asshole-isation, so to speak.

There were so many Meme-isms in my life it would take volumes to quote them all. One of my favorites was “don’t shit where you eat.” Now think about that statement and how it pertains to life in general. You can take it literally and say to the guy in Wal-mart who came out of the stall holding a cheeseburger and a coke “don’t shit where you eat.” You can say it to the backstabbing co-worker who just undercut you but doesn’t know it’s up to you whether or not he gets a raise “don’t shit where you eat.” See how that works? The other thing she used to say was “put your big girl panties on and get over yourself”. Then there were the normal mommalese “don’t touch that, you’ll grow warts” and “you cross your eyes like that and they are gonna stick” or “you better stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about” but my favorite was “I’m gonna beat you in front of GAWD and everybody if you don’t straighten up”. She said that to me a bunch of times but honestly not as much as she should have.

I guess that what I’m trying to say is that even though Nurse Meme is gone, she really isn’t. She lives with me in my heart and my memory. She visits me in my dreams and in the far reaches of my mind.

 Her words ring out loud and true and I am thankful for having such a caring mother. She worked her fingers to the bone to give me and my siblings a good up bringing and strong morals.

Thank you Nurse Meme.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Who Won? Who Won? I KNOW!

I sat down at my computer this morning with all intentions of announcing the winner of Erin Bried’s book “How to Sew A Button…” but I couldn’t connect to random integer generator site. I took a swig of my perfectly made pumpkin spiced latte and decided to peruse the world wide web. I then decided it was time for a little breakfast and went to the kitchen and realized my faucet still looked like this. I sighed heavily and went back to bed.

I pulled the covers over my head and decided not to worry about the faucet or the mounds of laundry piling up. I decided to just stay in bed and watch sappy Christmas movies. I watched a couple of episodes of Dirty Jobs, drank another cup of coffee and made myself get out of bed but only because I had to pee.

I wandered through the house and went back to bed and picked up the remote control and flipped through the 5000 stations and decided there was nothing to watch. How can that be? When I was a kid we weren’t allowed to watch a lot of television. Nurse Meme would say “get the hell out of this house! You kids are driving me crazy!” We three would look outside at the sleet or rain or blowing dust and say “but MAWWMA it’s awful out there.”

She would shake her head and say “go on outside and play. It’s good for you. It will build character.” She would then wrestle us out the door and she would lock it, smile at us from the window and sit down and smoke her cigarette and drink her coffee in relative peace and quiet. Well except for the fact that she had three crumb munchkins with their pitiful faces pressed up against the glass watching her. She had an easy remedy for that though, she just closed the curtains. I digress.

Remembering what Nurse Meme said I decided to go outside; actually Boz decided to go outside. The poor guy was standing with his legs crossed doing the peepee dance. I hooked up the leash and he took me outside where I was hit in the face with a big glaring sun. What the heck? Doesn’t mother nature know it’s almost Christmas? Doesn’t she know that it should be cold and grey? Did she decide to take all of her Christmas weather and dump it on the east coast? It was eighty degrees outside for Pete’s sake. Hey have you ever wondered who that guy Pete is and why it is always for his sake? What makes him so ding danged special?

Since the weather was so gawdawful wonderful I decided to hang some laundry on the line and then perhaps grill out doors.

Am I making those of you covered in snow a little jealous? Yeah don’t be. Last year at this time I was sitting in a snug little cabin buried under six feet of snow. The world was white and pristine. It was gorgeous. It looked like Christmas is supposed to look.

Then I walked back into my kitchen and saw my faucet, again. I decided to do the only thing I could do. I sat down at my computer wrote this and went back on Random Integer Generator and put in the parameters. Then I pushed the button and this is the result it came back with.

Generated Result:

Who you ask is # 22 it’s faithful reader Angela. Now Angela the ball is in your court. You need to e-mail me your contact information so I can get this book sent off to you as soon as I get through being lazy. Angela you out there? Angela! Is that you with your nose pressed against the window?

Oh and just so you know.  Kahuna repaired the faucet and I once again have a functioning faucet without that lovely electrical tape.  We replace faucets around here like Tiger Woods picks up women, all the time.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Gladys has Random Christmas Llama Thoughts

It is Friday again and time for Mrs. 4444 to present her Friday Fragments.  Go on go over read her fragments, link yours and have a big old fragmented party. Then go on over to Ann Again and Again for your weekly Virtual Girls Night Out. Have a drink, even if it’s just water, read some stories and partake in her game. Also link your Friday to her Friday.

Oh and don’t forget to go to my Wednesday post and leave me a comment in order to win Erin Bried’s book “How To Sew A Button…”   See what I did there?  Yeah I made it easy for you just click on Wednesday post and it will take you right to the post that was just 2 days ago.  No scrolling back no fuss no muss.  I love your comments so far. It sounds like our grandparents and parents really were the greatest generation. I mean teaching us to play poker and watch baseball are very important things 


So here it is the week before Christmas and people are getting more and more stressed. How do I know this? I went to buy cleaning supplies and it was as if the famine had hit. People were stomping on each others toes in order to get that last mechanical hamster.

I took Boz for a walk the other day. While on our walk we encountered a man walking his dog. He looked at Boz and said “Is that a poodle?” I looked at him square and the eye and said nope it’s a miniature Christmas llama only one in existence.


How come the Salvation Army bell ringers on those sappy Christmas movies always wear Santa suits but the ones in my town just wear jeans and T-shirts? Do you think they really are collecting for the Salvation Army or collecting beer money?


This week’ overheard was actually a telephone conversation I had with a credit card company. I was disputing a charge on my bill. Yes someone had charged fire insurance on my card.

Me: I did not authorize a charge to XYZ Fire Insurance Company.

Customer Service: So you are saying you didn’t order a fire?

Me: No, not a fire, fire insurance from XYZ Fire Insurance Company.

Customer Service: Did they send you the merchandise?

Me: What merchandise?

Customer Service: The fire. Did they send you the fire?

Me: No. It is not for FIRE it is for FIRE INSURANCE and I DID NOT ORDER IT.

Customer Service: Can you describe the merchandise again?

Me: We didn't start the fire

It was always burning

Since the world's been turning

We didn't start the fire

No we didn't light it

But we tried to fight it

Thanks Billy Joel

Customer Service: I’m sorry I don’t understand.
Me:  Obviously

If you follow me on the hacked version of Twitter then you know that I am unable to post any new pictures unless I offer up a ransom to Google to free up more space. What do you think? Should I give in to terrorist and pay the ransom?


Finally but not lastly it is also Happy Hour Friday over at the Wiz. Otin hosts Happy Hour Friday so go on over and tell us what makes you happy.

Here are some things that make me happy.

Playing in the snow

Having Visitors

Christmas Shoes

Now go on and be good to one another and remember thoughts become things, think good ones.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

I Don't Know Much

Today is Theme Thursday. Can you believe it? It is Thursday again? My how time flies the older you get. This week’s theme is History. Yes as in “I don’t know much about His-tor-ee, don’t know much Bi-ol-o-gee…” to quote Sam Cooke. I do know that where you have been shapes who you become. So I’m not talking world history here or even ancient history, unless of course you are close to my age, I’m talking about personal history.

Oh and speaking of history go to my post yesterday and leave me a comment on THAT post. That will put you in the pot to win Erin Bried’s book “How to Sew a Button”. It is a great book and I have to tell you I have absolutely loved reading your comments about what your parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles have taught you. Absolutely riveting!

Now on to my tale of history. I know you can’t wait can you?

Gladys sat in her history class listening to Mr. Osborne drone on and on about the First World War and how some weirdo named Prince Ferdinand got himself whacked. Mr. Osborne acted as if this was something terribly important in the fate of where our country was in the 1970’s. She was not following how something that happened a bazillion years ago in Austria had anything to do with a little town in Texas. Heck, the only thing she knew about Austria was the hills were alive with the Sound of Music. Then it happened. Fred Farkle came into class with his high-water pants and his pocket protector firmly ensconced in his upper left pocket. That wasn’t what was so miraculous; he looked like that every day. Fred was a nerd of major proportions and the smartest kid in school. No what made angels sing and children laugh was he was carrying a dozen, dozen Jack and Jill donuts. He had sprinkles, chocolate covered, jelly filled, cake and plain old yeast donuts in that box. He smiled showing his newly tightened braces and forced out through the forty-seven rubber bands holding his jaws together like a vice “mha mhuhm whamted mhu tho hah dhesh sinssssh I’m thardsh.” Mr. Osborne lit up like a Christmas tree and slid the boxes onto the radiator box. “Well Mr. Farkle I think this more than makes up for you tardiness. Class you may each come and get a donut and we will resume our lecture on Ferdinand.”

Fred looked longingly at the boxes of pastries and instead turned and took his seat knowing he would never be able to force a smidgen between the vice grips of rubber band and he would never be able to restring them if he undid them. He sighed heavily and watched as the rest of the class took their share and his. Mr. Osborn sat down at his desk and consumed several jelly filled delectables and then sat back in his chair.

Mr. Osborn was not a young man. He had in fact been one of the participants in the Great Escape, yes as in the one they made the movie about. Gladys did not know this tidbit until a couple of years later when she had him for another class. He was almost completely deaf and if he turned his hearing aide off he could sit in absolute peace and quiet. This is exactly what he did after he devoured his morning delight. He instructed the class that they could go by two’s to the water fountain and get a drink of water then they would resume the lecture.

The class was as orderly as a bunch of teenagers can be got up and went out to mess around in the hall and pretend to be getting water. They filed back in the room by two’s each one passing Mr. Osborne until finally Johnny said in a hushed tone “his eyes are closed and his hearing aide ain’t whistling. I think he’s asleep.” That is when the majority of the class as quietly as possible gathered up their belongings. Then two by two they slipped from the classroom. Mr. Osborne was satiated and sleeping in his chair oblivious to the fact his class was dwindling in number as he beat out his breathes in a rhythmic snore. Eventually there were only two left in the room. Gladys and Fred looked at one another. They eased from their seats both sore afraid they would be caught ditching class. They gathered their belongings and as they eased passed the snoozing professor he snorted. Gladys began giggling from nerves and hey it was funny to hear your teacher snort and snore. Fred had just reached the door when Mr. Osborne’s eyes popped open he looked around at the empty room and said “Where is everyone?”

Gladys froze in fear. They had been caught. They were going to take the fall. She knew this was going on her permanent record. Oh the shame! The tragedy! He was going to punish them and make them read some horrible dry book on history and how some Australian had caused the war to end all wars, but worse it would be on her permanent record. The record that would follow you through life. The one that the teachers threatened you with your whole school career. She could see it now. There she would be standing in front of the crowd waiting to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize and they would pull out a big yellow folder marked GLADYS MCGUILLICUTTY: PERMANENT RECORD. They would open it up and say “Oh there has been a mistake. It says here in your permanent record that you ditched history class. Sorry we are going to have to take back that prize.”

Gladys was panicked. She looked at Fred as he stood in his frozen deer in the headlights stance. She looked at Mr. Osborne as he huffed and puffed and fidgeted with his hearing device. Then Fred opened his mouth wide sending out a barrage of rubber bands. As the rubber projectiles sailed toward the ducking teacher he said the only the he could say “Mr. Osborne, the bell rang, we have to get to our next class.” Then he grabbed Gladys’ hand and darted out the door.

This is why I don’t know much about history. I do know if you feed your history teacher enough donuts you can ditch class. I also know that Fred was fast on his feet and went on to be a brilliant cardiologist and that’s all I know.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Gladys Gives Away Grandmothers kind of

I got a call from my twenty-something niece, Tooter the other day. We were chit chatting and she said Aunt Gladys how do you make stew. Well I launched in to my diatribe of how you dust the meat and so on and she stopped me and said “Is the meat dirty? Is that why you dust it?” Then I realized I was speaking another language and that she had not yet learned. You see I learned things from my mother who I think just instinctively learned them because she didn’t really have a mother to teach her things. It was like Nurse Meme instinctively knew how to fold a fitted sheet or wash a cashmere sweater and then passed that knowledge down to Matilda and me.

Nurse Meme would set her hair with beer.

My Grandmother yes the same Grandmother who jumped in the number five washtub with me also was a wealth of knowledge. There wasn’t anything that woman couldn’t do. She could sew, sing, cook, mend, crochet, garden and since she passed away when I was only five she could have taught me all those things but well she went too soon. I am left with remnants of her though a homemade apron, a picture painted on an old canvas window shade because she didn’t have canvas, her flour sifter and her chocolate pie recipe.

I get calls from my daughters and others often wanting to know the secrets of pie crust and how to bleach out your white clothes without turning them yellow. I love getting these calls because it gives me the chance to pass on the knowledge with which I was blessed. I have always said I would have made a great 1940’s housewife because I can make one roasted chicken into five or more meals, I know how to compost my kitchen waste and can put up my own vegetables.

This brings me all to the point of my post. Yes I have a point and yes it’s a good one. The other day I received an email from Erin Bried wanting to know if I would be interested in giving away one of her books “How to Sew a Button and Other Nifty Things Your Grandmother Knew”. Now I had never heard of Erin even though she had been featured in O magazine, yes as in OPRAH. Did you just hear a choir of angels sing? Yeah me too. Now I feel like I know Oprah personally what with all that six degrees of separation and all. She is also a senior staff writer at Self magazine and has been featured in Redbook among others, Erin not Oprah.

It wasn’t Oprah that impressed me though it was something else or I should say somebody else. It was the fact that Erin interviewed grandmothers, yes other people’s grandmothers, and compiled all of their knowledge in this book. One of the women she interviewed is Mildred A. Kalish the author of Little Heathens.

I read Little Heathens awhile back and loved it so much I shared it with my family. You see I don’t believe we can hear enough about what life was like before we had all these modern conveniences and she describes her life growing up in the early part of the last century so well.  I recommend you read Little Heathens as soon as you finish with Erin's book.

I received Erin's book earlier this week and I sat down and was mesmerized by the topics, like how to fold a fitted sheet; yep she does it just like Nurse Meme taught me. How about how to wear red lipstick? I shy from red lipstick even though I love it because I’ve never been sure how to choose the right shade for my complexion. This book is a wonderful wealth of knowledge. You must get one for yourself and for all your domestically challenged friends and relatives.  My Sisters Farmhouse is having a contest to give away one of Erin’s books and so am I.

Yes I am giving away a copy of Erin’s book which goes on sale December 18. I have preordered copies for myself, my daughters, my nieces and of course myself because believe it or not I do not know everything.

Here is how you win, leave me a comment of something your grandmother or mother heck let’s not be biased your grandfather, father, uncle, brother or aunt taught you. I will throw all your comments in the random integer hat Saturday morning and come up with a winner. The one who wins will win a copy of Erin’s book and….This. So sign up and learn things your grandmother knew.