Random Thoughts and Sand In My Crack 7-31-09

Once again my mind has wandered off into those random areas of thought which often cause me to sit glassy eyed and drooling. This state of catatonia is often achieved for me while sitting in the sand watching the waves roll in and wash out. Last week we had some awesome surf here in sunny Southern California. Unfortunately it actually resulted in a few deaths. It is for this very reason I do not go near the waves when they are higher than my ankles, which means I usually just sit on the beach. Oh and did I mention the waters off our beaches is not the warm salty sensation of those off of tropical beaches? No they are what Kahuna calls “bracing”. I call it frigid. Wait, I’m not done yet. They spotted a great white shark off one of the local beaches too. Yes that, the jelly fish, the sea kittens also known as sharks and a sundry of critters cause me to think twice before I stick my pinky toe in the waters. Neither Kahuna nor five million other surfers who all congregate in the waters like a herd of seals waiting for that next big wave.
Now for what I do. I sit on the beach and eaves drop. Yes that is why God mad my ears so big and stick out. See Matilda I told you they would come in handy one day. So without anymore blabbering I will share my Overheard On The Beach with you:
Surfer 1: Dude it’s going off!
Translation: The waves are quite large.
Surfer 2: Dude. It ripped me and zipped me.
Translation: Yes, indeed they are very grandiose. I was caught in one and it tossed me about.
Surfer 1: Dude, I dropped in on Everest and then slide down the face.
Translation: I was able to get up on my board on a very large wave which then rolled over so that I could ride the front side of it.

From the Real Housewives of Doheny:
RHW #1: Do these diamonds make my boobs look too small?
RHW #2: Not really, did you get them re-done?
RHW #1: No, they are in the same setting they’ve always been in.

From two little kids playing in the sand next to me:

Kid # 1: Dude I got to go into the water

Kid # 2: Why? Do you need to pee?

Kid # 1: No man I got sand in my butt crack and it blows around when I fart.

When I was little my mother used to threaten to whip me with whatever she could find, oh and believe me I deserved it. Sometimes it was a hairbrush other times it was a willow twig which she would make me go cut myself. The oddest thing she used to say was “Gladys get your butt in this house right now or I’ll beat you with a buggy whip!” There were several things wrong with this statement. First it’s not like I grew up in the 1800’s where everyone had a buggy whip at their ready and second of all who beats their children with a buggy whip? Then as I was driving through Los Angeles I saw this and well it brought tears to my eyes.

Remember I told you all the other day that I was having lunch with Lola of the Cabana? What you didn’t know is we went on safari, in Mimi’s Café.

It's Friday which means it's Friday Fragments over at Mrs 4444 Site Half Past Kissing Time. Hey there Mrs. 4's. How was the Blogher Conference?

Then over at Ann Again and Again she is hosting what we all need on Fridays, a girls night out. Scoot your bo-hiney on over there and see what's shakin.

Oh and if you have made it this far in my post I thought I would let you know I will be doing some relationship counseling, I mean since ALL of my dates always went so well. (Yes mother I'm being a smart-a$$) So if you need realtionship advice or want to hear about any of my horror stories email me or leave a comment and I'll happily comply.

Now go off and fix yourself a Sex On The Beach. Plop down on the sand next to me and let's look for Sea Kittens.

Sex On The Beach Gladys Style

1 1/2 jigger of Pinapple Vodka (remember the recipe I gave you before? Use it here)

1/2 jigger Peach Schnapps

2 oz Cranberry Juice (See this drink is medicinal. It prevents Urinary Tract Infections)

2 oz Orange Juice (A good way to get your daily Vitamin C)

Now I put this in a martini shaker with some crushed ice and I shake, shake, shake...shake, shake, shake... shakey my booty. Then I pour in a sippy cup and the Life guards have no idea that your drinking Al-key-hall right there on the beach.

So I guess it would be stealthy sex on the beach. Go Enjoy and write me your questions when you sober up.

The Beginning

Now that I have introduced you to my Aunt Francis let me introduce you to Uncle Monroe. He was my daddy’s best friend growing up. He was a couple of years older and just as red headed as they come, hence his nickname Red. He passed away several years ago yet he still lives in all of our hearts.

Now when I say they were best friends I mean they were like peas and carrots, Forest and Bubba, Frick and Frack; you get the idea they were close. They lived out on a country lane and would get into all kinds of mischief like tipping over outhouses and putting flaming bags of cow manure on peoples front porches. They were rough and tumble boys. They would ride their bicycles up to the general store and filling station and count their pennies to get a soda and some candy. This is when they first encountered Alfred and Monroe. They were mesmerized, wonderized and generally enthralled with these two men. They watched them, mimicked them and laughed about them for the next 60 years.

It was a hot summer day and Red had blown out yet another inner tube on his bicycle. He was hot and sweaty but was diligently trying to put the patch on the over patched tube. “Hey Red, what cha up to” Bob asked as he squatted in the dirt next to his best bud. “Oh Heck this danged tube done blew out again. Geese Bob do you think we are ever gonna be able to save up enough to get new tubes? I mean this one’s got more patches on it than my Grandma’s bloomers” Red responded tossing the inner tube on the ground. Bob picked up the patched piece of rubber and said “hey hop on my bike and we’ll go down to the fillin station, maybe Homer can help us fix this better. Heck maybe he has a better one hanging in the bay”. Red hopped on the handle bars while Bob pumped the pedals the half a mile up the red dirt road.

The garage bay door was open and they could hear the radio playing in the background. The boys looked around back but did not see Homer, the station owner, anywhere. They wandered into the bay and yelled out but no answer. They walked around the front to where the store was located and spotted a rusted model T. The car looked much like Red’s bicycles inner tube, a little worse for wear with patches here and rusts there.

The boys found a cool place to sit and in a few minutes out came an older gentleman in a pair of worn overalls with a straw hat on his head. He carried a sack of flour on one shoulder and a sack of dried beans on the other. “Come on Alfred! I aint gonna wait fer you all damnlodged day” the man called into the store. He unloaded his purchases into the car then went back up on the general store’s porch and retrieved yet another sack this one containing potatoes. Once again he squinted in the direction of the store and hollered “Dadblasted! Alfred come on we’re burnin daylight here. Hey don’t forgit to get them nails for the roof. I ain’t sleepin through another storm with that tin a flappin.”

The boys stifled a giggle and dug into pockets counting out change until they had enough to purchase a single Orange Crush soda to be shared. They settled down on their used tire perch to watch the rest of the show.

“Monroe, did you get that bag of flour” came a bodiless voice from the general store. Alfred removed his hat, took out a blue bandana wiped his brow and yelled back “Hell, yes you danged old woman! I got the flour, the beans and the taters now get your ass in gear and let’s go. Bessie is gonna need milking and I got some likker to bottle.” He put his hat back on his head and stomped around the old car lookin at the tires. Then he stopped. He got a pinched look on his face lifted his leg and let out the longest loudest fart either of the boys had ever heard. That was it. It was all they could do. Red squirted Orange Crush out his nose and Bob fell off the tires. They were laughing and carrying on when finally the elusive and evidently more feminine of the two came out of the store. There in matching overalls with an identical hat was Monroe’s identical twin Alfred. He carried a bolt of flowered material, a bag full of ten penny nails and a tub of lard.

He walked down the steps and set his treasures into the car. He looked at Monroe, sniffed the air and said “Oh GOOD LARD Munrow! What the hell died?” Monroe sniffed and said “smells kinda like those Juevos Rancheros that Jose’ made fer breakfast.” Alfred stood glaring at his mirror reflection with hands on his hips “I ain’t riddin all the way back to the place iffin your gonna be letting loose like that. You can just walk home.” Monroe shook his head wiped his face and said “I’ll kick your ass.”

What transpired next was sort of like a game of chicken. Alfred would advance a few steps toward Monroe. Then Monroe would advance a few steps toward Alfred until finally they both gave up and finished loading up the car. Once the car was loaded and the two were ready to set off Monroe got behind the wheel. Alfred positioned himself in front of the car, crank in hand. Monroe hollered “Choke” Alfred confirmed “Choke”. Monroe yelled “Contact” then Alfred confirmed “contact”. Monroe hollered “ignition” and Alfred confirmed “ignition” then sat about cranking that flivver with all his might. There was a sputter and a spew of black smoke then a chug-a-lug then a boom followed by a pop and another plum of black smoke, then nothing. They repeated this process identically three times until finally the old engine took hold and chugged along methodically. Monroe slipped her into gear and started rolling down the drive with Alfred running madly along side. Finally he was able to heft himself into the shot-gun seat and off they went happily down the road.

Red looked at Bob and Bob back at Red. They wiped the orange crush from their faces with dirty hands and tried to control their giggles. The die was cast, the scene had been set they were and would forever be Alfred and Monroe.

A Laugh Bigger Than Dallas

She has a laugh bigger than life itself. She always has a sunny disposition and a come-back for everything. She is my Aunt, my friend and my playmate.
I remember being five years old and hearing the Green Hornet pull into the drive. I would run through the house and out the door to greet my Aunt Francis. Now she wasn’t really my aunt but she was. Confused? She was married to my dad’s best friend. My dad didn’t have any brothers by birth but his best friend Monroe had become his brother. I would know it was her because I could hear her laugh from inside the house. She would great us all with hugs and kisses. She would come in the house and her booming voice would resonate and brighten up my world.
She and Nurse Meme worked at the hospital together and would often be caught tormenting some poor orderly or fledgling physician making him run from one floor to the next for some made-up procedure kit. They would take unsuspecting foreign nurses and fill them full of chicken fried steak, gravy and cold sweet iced tea in a Mason jar. The foreigners would then want to know what made the tea taste so good. Would Francis tell them it was the fact that her water was not only purified but softened too? Would she tell them she steeped her Lipton loose leaf black tea for exactly 5 minutes? Oh no she would tell them it was the Mason Jars that made the difference. Next thing you know there would be a run on Mason Jars down at the local T G & Y and everyone who wanted to put up peas would have to do without.
Our families would go on vacation together. She would grab us kids up early in the morning fling us off into the cool lake water and they is where we would all stay all day. We would bob up and down and paddle around until our flesh pruned and our bodies became water logged. She would make up games and join in the fun. Never a dull moment or an unimagined time.
When I was in high school they purchased a lake cabin which I visited as often as possible. We would sit on the screened in porch staring out over the red muddy water of Lake Fort Phantom. She would serve us tea and regale us with stories of double dating with my parents. She would laugh and tell stories of young Trooper Bob and Monroe getting into trouble and starting all kinds of fracases. We would sit in the cool darkness of the porch and I could just imagine what it would have been like to hang out with her as a teenager. Always laughing and always playing.
It is her laughter and love that reinforced me when things got ugly. I could call her or drop by at a moments notice and there she would be all smiles and laughter. She would tell me and still does “don’t take yourself too seriously, no one else does.”
I just wanted you to get to know a little something about one of my favorite people.

Just The Facts 7-28-09

There are a million stories in the city.
Dum-dah-dum…dum-dah-de-dum-de-dum.
"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 7-28-09
A sampling of crime briefs from the Kalispell Police and Flathead County Sheriff’s reports…by Julius Macker (comments by Gladys)

I am going to stray a bit from the norm. Ha! Like I have a norm. Anyway Donna sent me this from the Dutch Harbor Alaska Ear. Yes that is the same Dutch Harbor from which our brave seamen of the Deadliest Catch hail.
Gladys, here's another one from Dutch Harbor, AK.

IMPERFECT CRIME . . . Here's an excerpt from Ear's favorite police blotter, documenting life in Unalaska/Dutch Harbor:
"07/18/09--Sat--0207--Trespass -- An agitated, drunken patron who had groped a cocktail waitress was asked to leave the bar but did not wish to do so. (M.M.), 24 yoa, of Washington, was arrested for Criminal Trespass II after he cursed at an officer and refused to leave the area. (MM) was uncooperative at the jail and, among other things, attempted to drown himself, twice, by placing his head in a toilet in his cell but was unsuccessful due to the fact that he had to keep coming up for air."
So which one of the ships captains do you think this was? Oh and I guess you know my dirty little secret, I am addicted to that damn show.


Tuesday 7/21

4:57 a.m. Two juveniles were chased by an animal in Marion. They safely outran the creature, the identity of which is still unknown.
The boys or the creature? Was it Bigfoot? The creature not the boys.

12:46 p.m. A resident of Solberg Drive claims that her grandmother is harassing her. On one specific occasion, the reporting party saw the grandmother standing outside her home.
Maybe Grandma just misses her Sweet Little Snookem-ookems.
2:12 p.m. On Harmony Drive, a male took his ex-girlfriend’s vehicle without her knowledge and proceeded to wreck it.
Well I guess that showed her. I'm telling you if you want to have a good relationship don't move to Harmony Drive.

5:10 p.m. Someone spotted a black bear on Whitefish Hills Drive. Evidently, the bear was lethargic, could not walk properly and was not afraid of people.
My guess the bear found the stash of mushrooms. Gosh I hope someone told him not to take the red acid, man.
Wednesday 7/22

7:07 a.m. On Farm-to-Market Road, a crop duster flew low to the ground.
Isn’t that what they are supposed to do?

7:33 a.m. The engine of a large tanker truck blew up and started on fire along Highway 93 South. The tanker then dumped a large amount of liquid onto the highway, which turned out to be merely water.
Water Burns?

3:35 p.m. Employees of a local convenience store are not pleased with the presence of a man who lingers for hours, drinking cup after cup of coffee. His justification lies in the fact that the store offers free refills.
Maybe he just need TP for his bunghole. (ok if you are over 18 surely you remember Beavis and Butthead)

6:19 p.m. Several individuals stopped at a Whitefish residence and asked to use the homeowner’s phone. The homeowner became suspicious when he noticed them looking curiously about the house, and called authorities when a cell phone rang in a purse held by one of the visitors.

Didn’t your mother tell you not to open the door to strangers?

7:04 p.m. Hay trucks were hauling hay at high rates of speed on Conn Road. This seemed to constitute a road hazard to other motorists

.Heck Hay haulers at a slow rate of speed cause a hazard to other motorists.
8:34 p.m. Someone on Scenic Ridge Road called to report that they had contained a skunk in a skunk trap. Fish and Game arrived and relocated the skunk.
Why?

11:31 p.m. Suspicious teenagers were seen on the putting greens at an Evergreen golf course. Were they suspicious because they were chasing balls around with sticks while wearing really loud pants and funny shoes with spikes?
Friday 7/24

9:00 a.m. Someone stole a lovely pot of petunias from a home on Mission Trail.
Yes but what about the lovely bunch of coconuts?

1:22 p.m. A man wearing a short-sleeved black dress and carrying flowers lifted his skirt at a pedestrian near an Evergreen supermarket. The flasher then scurried behind a nearby building.
Klinger is that YOU?

6:19 p.m. An inner tube floating around on Foys Lake contained an unresponsive female who may have had too much to drink. Though she was not alert, she was breathing and somewhat conscious.
Sing it with me "I had a little drink about an hour ago and it went right to my head. Ooh show me the way to go home...."

8:51 p.m. An extremely intoxicated male dressed in black clothing staggered down the road in Evergreen, occasionally wandering into traffic. He also gestured obscenely at passing cars.
It was Johnny Cash again.

10:26 p.m. Someone crashed into a bear while driving along Highway 209. The car was not damaged and the bear ran off..

I bet that bear shit in the woods and the driver shit in his pants.

2:25 a.m. Two white chickens and a cow were stolen near a Martin City bar. The thief was heard leaving in a squeaky truck.
Well you know what they say...the squeaky thief gets the wheel. No wait that’s not how that goes.

Thursday 7/23

12:44 p.m. Someone in Kila illegally wired into an electrical transformer, circumventing an electric bill. This action is not only dangerous but constitutes a theft of services.
Ok, now our crackhead neighbors did this one time and it blew him right off the pole. It was a shocking experience.

9:05 p.m. On 4th Street West, an oven began to billow smoke after getting stuck shut in the “on” position.
Sorry, I was just trying to make toast again.

Monday 7/27.

3:20 p.m. A female individual sent harassing text messages to another female and then posted her name on Myspace.com.
When I was a kid you just passed nasty notes about each other.

9:14 p.m. Someone witnessed several baby sparrows fall out of their nest in Coram. They have placed the creatures in a cozy box and will be contacting the local “bird lady.”
This made the BLOTTER? Really?

9:38 p.m. On Yoeman Hall Road, a cow moose and her calf were separated by a fence. Authorities responded, and the two were eventually reunited.
Reunited and it feels so good. Reunited and it’s understood...

So all you people out there who have equally compelling or hilarious police blotter stories and want me to comment on them or feature them please just send them my way.

Got Valium?

I have written before about my mother, Nurse Meme, and her fear of heights in “The Invasion”. She because of her fear of heights also had an aversion to flying. She loathed it. She would try not to stress over it and just get on the plane sitting as far from the window as possible and immerse herself in other thoughts. She was very brave and very determined and this often did the trick.
She avoided transportation via the air whenever possible; unfortunately the speed and convenience often sucked her into its vapor trail. My story is about one such event.

Nurse Meme booked her trip, scheduled her continuing education class and packed her suitcase. She gave her parrot an extra ration of Fritos, kissed Trooper Bob goodbye and made her way to the airport. She boarded the American Airlines jet which would wing its way to her destination. She had reserved her usual aisle seat, retrieved her study material and started to focus. The engines whirred and they were rolling down the tarmac when she noticed the young girl in the middle seat was a bit fidgety. Nurse Meme, being the caring person she was, put down her papers and took a long hard look at her seat mate.

She asked the young woman “are you alright?” The woman looked at Nurse Meme through crazed eyes and squeaked out “I don’t think so.” Then she started screaming and trying to get out of her seatbelt. Nurse Meme grabbed the woman and in a calm but firm tone asked “what is the problem? Stop screeching”. The woman grabbed Meme’s arm in a vice like grip and said “I need a fix. I thought I could get through the flight but I can’t. I’m dying here.” The she broke free from Meme and her seatbelt and tried to bolt.

The woman had made such a spectacle that other passengers were beginning to get uneasy. The flight attendant made an announcement for everyone to remain seated until the seatbelt light was extinguished. The crazed addict had caused such a commotion that Nurse Meme was afraid the plane would be grounded and she would have to start all over again calming herself down.
Nurse Meme had been through enough emergencies and had dealt with enough drug addicts in her life that she handled the situation in a calm and professional manner. She grabbed the girl by the collar from behind and yanked her back into her seat. Then my 100 pound mother held the writhing screaming druggie in her seat and said “okay, I’m a nurse. What are you taking?” The girl looked at my mother wild eyed and panicked and said “nothing right now you twit! Why do you think I’m like this?” Now I’m here to tell you from experience Nurse Meme did not like being called names much less being called a twit from a heroine addict. That’s when she went into full Meme action she pushed harder against the girl’s chest and leaned over and through clinched teeth said “you sit your ass right here and you shut your mouth. I will get something to calm you down but if you get up or scream one more damned time I’ll break your legs. Do you understand me?” The girl looked at Nurse Meme eyes wide and mouth open in the beginning of a scream. She thought better of it closed her mouth and nodded her head in agreement.

Nurse Meme went into action. She grabbed the flight attendant and apprised her of the problem. A few minutes later the flight attendant came on the loud speaker and announced that there was a medical emergency and was there a physician on board. When no one responded she once again made an announcement and asked if anyone had any type of tranquilizer or sleeping medication. With this question almost every hand in the plane went up. The plane was off the ground and now in flight. The ‘fasten your seatbelt sign’ had blinked off and Nurse Meme got up and collected what she felt would do the trick. She thanked her fellow passengers then went to administer what she would hope was the dose to calm down the crazed and jonsing addict.
Three Percocet and two Darvocet later the addict was peacefully sleeping drooling on Nurse Meme’s shoulder. Several people passed the two as the flight progressed from South to North. Each one reaching over and thanking Nurse Meme for her quick and stern action and each one offering up another medication which might make the girl remain asleep until they reached their final destination.

Perception, A Terrible Thing to Waste

Oh MY GAWD why didn’t somebody tell me I had gotten old? You may or may not know but I was interviewed yesterday morning on the KTLA Morning Show. That is the Los Angeles CW station’s morning news show. It is kind of like the Today show only funnier and hipper. I was on for an essay I wrote on this story MY Worst Date, Well One of Them. Kahuna and I got up bright and early at two o’clock, yes in the morning and gussied ourselves up. We then proceeded up the Highway of Hell to the city of Lost Angels. We panicked when we were sitting completely idle on the 15 freeway at 5:45. We wandered if we would make it on time? Would the news go on without me? Would they even miss me? Well I’m happy to say we made it with time to spare and the news was able to be reported. I know big sigh of relief.

That my friends is not what this story is about but the fact that I saw myself on the TEEVEE yesterday. Do you remember the old cartoon where the woman has a size 10 foot and she keeps trying to put it in Cinderella’s size 2 glass slipper? I guess what I’m trying to tell you is my story is about perception. You see when I saw myself on the screen sitting next to some young blond thing, Jessica Holmes I said to Kahuna “Hum I wonder when that old hag is going to be off of here and I’m going to be on. Hey why is that old hag wearing my dress and saying my words?” Then I screamed and grabbed Kahuna’s arm. I had realized that old hag was me. I do not see an aging woman in my minds eye. When I look in the mirror I am still a young woman, wearing my blue eye shadow and Gloria Vanderbilt size double zero jeans, but a young woman. The woman on the screen was old enough to have been my mother, well at least in my mind. It was this awful realization that made me think of my college room mate.

My college roommate, God rest her soul, was named Viola. Now you may pronounce it anyway you want but back in Texas we pronounced it *Fie-OH-lah the emphasis on the OH. She was from a little town up in the panhandle of Texas named Muleshoe. She was a preacher’s daughter and wilder than a March hare. She was always slipping off with this boy or that to get drunk, smoke pot and do whatever college kids did back in the 1970’s. I don’t want you to think I was a total prude or a goody-two-shoes because believe me I wasn’t. I just worked all the time and didn’t get to go drinking and carousing, much. Viola though was a professional at it. She loved to get dressed up in my clothes I might add and hit the town.

Now I know you’re sitting there saying “Gladys what the heck does that have to do with perception and you being older than Methuselah? Get on with the dadgum story, dagnabbit.” (I see you’re pretty old yourself.) The problem was Viola was 5’5” and weighed in at about 160 pounds. This means that she wore a size 12. I on the other hand was Skinny Minnie weighing in at about 72 pounds on a good day and all of 4’11”. Like I said I wore a size double zero. I was tee-tiny and my roommate was trying to and often did squeeze her much larger self into my little bitty clothes. Then she would paint her lips copper penny red fluff her henna colored hair and waddle out of the room and out onto the quad all smooshed and sqooshed into my little clothes.

I am not going to lie to you she used to drive me absolutely insane. I could not for the life of me understand why she would try to wear my obviously too small clothes or why she would even go out in public looking like a badly stuffed sausage. I know you are picturing it in your mind, lumps here, flesh exploding there. It was not a pretty sight. People would stare at her and whisper. I tried telling her several times that my clothes were too small. I begged her not to wear my shiny polyester shirt with the rhinestone buttons or my Diane Von Furstenberg knock-off wrap dress but she didn’t listen. She looked in the mirror and saw Cheryl Tiegs. She saw a Supermodel and was oblivious to everything else. She was the size 10 footed woman trying to fit into Cinderella’s size 2 shoe. Not that I think or even thought I was Cinderella. Well except for having to scrub the floors and cook and clean and not getting to go to the ball, but that is a story for another day. She simply had a different perception of what she looked like than the rest of the world.

It is she, I thought of when I saw my taped interview. I thought of Viola trying to fit into my too small clothes because my perception of what I look like is so different than what I saw on that screen. What I saw was an aging woman with a fat face and no lips. Oh and by the way Farrah called and wants her hair back. What I see in my minds eye is my younger self. The tight skinned, bright eyed woman of yesterday. I have to tell you truthfully I have one mirror in my house and it hangs over my bathroom sink. I am usually the one behind the camera, not in front. I rarely stop and stare at myself in shop windows or gazing pools so I am not that familiar with the woman into which I have aged. It was down right scary and disheartening to see myself in all my sagginess up there on the screen. I now understand why there is such a run in Hollywood for plastic surgery. Why actors go into the surgeons office looking like our favorite actor and come out the other side looking like that horrible Joker from Batman, the Jack Nicholson one not the Heath Ledger one.

My perception of my looks is so different than reality and I’m okay with that. I will not be starting a plastic surgery fund nor will I be soliciting on the internet for strangers to watch the procedure for a mere forty-five thousand dollars. I won’t even as my friend Suzy Soro over at Hollywood Where Hot Comes to Die says fly off to Thailand for the five star treatments. I am who I am, saggy jowls, wrinkles and all. The woman who spoke was still me even though the visual was askew. My mind still works in the same demented and twisted way and I still have the ability to laugh and have fun. I am not saying I don’t apply the anti-sag anti-wrinkle face tightening face lifting creams but honestly you can only do so much. I mean you can’t make a silk purse out of a sows ear and you can’t make me 18 again.

So our perceptions of ourselves good or bad are usually based on what our thoughts are. Your thoughts control your beauty and how you appear to others. My case in point is what you put out there you will be. I don’t mean go buy the size double zero jeans and try to squeeze your size 12 self into them but think positive about yourself. Go look in the mirror, acquaint yourself with your sags, wrinkles, pimples, blemishes and all then perceive them as beautiful because you are. Think sexy and you’ll be sexy. Think positive and happy and you will be. Trust me on this because I’m older than Methuselah but I think I am a spring chicken.

Holy Crap and other Randoms

What is holy crap? Is it like swiaa cheese or is it divine? You make the call.

why do people always seem to be pissed off on vacation? It's vacation! I mean you should be happy.

Why is UPS called the Brown but FEDEX isn't called Big Blue?

OK I'm off like a prom dress. As a matter of fact I'm posting as I drive to LA.

Teen Angel Can You Hear Me?

I was visiting over at Bye Bye Pie and she was talking about being a teenager. I think the original idea came from My Topography. (Wow I wonder how many times she’s been linked today.) She asked what you were like as a teenager. That was so long ago it’s hard for me to remember, okay maybe not so hard. Pretty much who I was as a teenager is who I am today just more wrinkled.

If you read my blog then you pretty much know I grew up in a crazy family. I was found under a rock (Go here read this: Found Under A Rock) somewhere in the deserts of West Texas. I was pretty much younger than all of my friends and was a little late getting my drivers license because I couldn’t get anyone but my sister, Matilda, to take me practice driving. Thank God she rode with me otherwise I would still just have my learner’s permit.

I will tell you this I was probably a nerd. Now I’m not sure that we actually used the word nerd back then but it describes me. I have always been a veracious reader. You would find me with my legs draped over the arm of my father’s recliner reading anything and everything from Stephen King to Elmer Kelton. (I’m sure most of you have heard of Stephen King but only a few of you will have read the westerns of Elmer Kelton.) I had six close friends. We would all be at one another’s houses or in each other’s cars. I was the “card” of the group. Really I didn’t mean to be funny; I was just so goofy everyone laughed at me. I was the one who wanted everything to be fun and good. I was the one who wanted to fix everyone’s problems. I had big frizzy Janis Joplin hair; unfortunately I didn’t have her voice. I was all legs and hair, oh and let’s not forget the big silver braces with the gigantic head gear. Yes I was pure loveliness.

We were such a weird group of girls. We would often hold impromptu dinner parties in which we would get out the Betty Crocker cookbook or The Joy of Cooking and make a whole 7 course dinner from soup to nuts complete with red grape juice or white grape juice to substitute for the wine. Ok the truth of the matter is more than once, okay a bunch of times we would serve real wine. We would dress up in our best close and use the good china, real silverware and put candles in the candelabra. Yes we were right sophisticated in our Gunnie Sax dresses and our platform shoes.

We would serve our dinner, drink our wine and talk about the mean girls at school. Why are mean girls named Heather, Tiffany and Britney? Does that name just piss them off and they decide to be mean to the girls named Gladys, Francis and Dahlia? Now don’t get all upset if you’re Heather or a Tiff but honestly back then those names were not common and the girls with those names in our school were just plain mean. We would sometimes invite our dates to these dinner parties or Fondue Fiascos but mostly it was just us girls. Then one day in our senior year of high school we all just drifted apart. We were no longer the six amigos we were separate and it was very lonely. I reached out to others but it was never the same. Never again did I have a group of friends who sat under a Mulberry tree passing a book from one to another reading passages and discussing the attributes of Jane Austin or Walt Whitman. No longer did I have someone to share a new recipe or with whom to share a concoction.
What were you like as a teenager? Were you morose and dark? Were you bright and bubbly? Were you on the most popular list or did you hide in your room and plot death and destruction to those around you? Come on you can share with me, I won’t tell anyone.

PS...I tried to find pictures of me when I was a gangly teenager and I don't think I have any. I must have not been very photogenic

Yet Another Extraordinary Correspondence

Several months back I posted about a series of books I had read called “The Extraordinary Correspondence of Griffin and Sabine”. Then I went on to include a correspondence I received by email from Mr. Zhang Furang. You can read the following correspondences here. The Extraordinary Correspondence of Gladys and Furang and In Which Furang Has Gone on the Lamb.

The other day in my thirst for reading I picked up this book “The Gurnsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society” written by Mary Ann Sheffer and Annie Barrows. It is a collection of letters between a writer and a group of people on the island of Gurnsey after World War II. It is really a lovely, funny book and it got me to thinking. Would I ever correspond with a complete stranger? Would I spend 44 cents on a stamp after having sat down and penned a missive to an unknown inquiry. Then I remembered that I am a blogger and I pretty much do that every day. Then it happened. My opportunity arose and I felt compelled to do as Juliet does in the book and respond to this person in need. The following is the dispatch I received and my reply. Do you think I should turn my correspondence into a book?


Dearest Gladys,
Although you might be apprehensive about my email as we have not met before, my name is Song Li. I work with the Hang Seng Bank. There is the sum of $19,500,000.00 in my bank "Hang Seng Bank", Hong Kong. There were no beneficiaries stated concerning these funds which mean no one would ever come forward to claim it. That is why I ask that we work together so as to have the sun transferred out of my bank into your account.

Note that all is well planned as we shall do this online with all legal and banking requirements. All I need from you is your willingness, trust and commitment. I want you to know that I have had everything planned out so that we shall come out successful. I will notify you on the full transaction on receipt of your response if interested, and I shall send you the details and necessary procedures with which to make the transfer. Please endeavor to observe utmost discretion in all matters concerning this issue. Once the funds have been transferred to your nominated bank account we shall then share in the ratio of 70% for me, 30% for you. Should you be interested please send me your:- Full names;Private phone number; current residential address.

Your earliest response to this letter will be appreciated.

Kind Regards,
Song Li

Dearest Song Li,
I am ever so happy you found me. I was corresponding with a Mr. Farung who was in a similar quandary. Perhaps you know him? It sounds to me as if you are positioned to perhaps become the beneficiary of a large sum of money. How wonderful for you. What ever will you do with all that good fortune?
Tell me how long have you been at the Hong Song Bank in Hong Kong? Do you enjoy it? I once worked in a bank but never become party to such a large some of money. What is Hong Kong like? I do hope your weather is much more amiable than ours.
I am afraid I can not supply you with a private residence address or a phone number at this time as I am currently without a home. Unfortunately with the closing of so many of our local banks and the cut back at many of our factories I have been without work for sometime now. Oh but don’t feel too bad for me. I manage. You would be surprised at the perfectly edible tidbits that are tossed into the garbage. The hardest thing would be finding a place to lay my head to sleep. The beaches are beautiful here but the Rangers make you leave at 10 p.m. I do get plenty of exercise by walking through the golden glow of the street lamps until dawn.
Perhaps I should come to Hong Kong. Is your bank hiring? Please let me know as soon as possible if I should purchase passage to your lovely island. I believe there is a street corner that will be opening for panhandling within the next several days and if I can obtain a three legged dog I might be able to raise the funds quickly.
Once again thank you for your letter and kind thoughts.
Sincerely
Your New Found Friend
Gladys McGuilicutty.

Just The Facts 7-21-09

There are a million stories in the city.
Dum-dah-dum…dum-dah-de-dum-de-dum.
"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 7-21-09

A sampling of crime briefs from the Kalispell Police and Flathead County Sheriff’s reports…by Julius Macker (Comments by Gladys).

Tuesday 7/14

8:27 a.m. Several cows of an unknown variety were exploring Stillwater Road.
It was the League of Extraordinary Cows

8:54 a.m. Near Marion, 20 head of mischievous cattle blocked the thoroughfare. They were eventually persuaded to stay on the proper side of the fence.
Those cows sure are busy.

12:21 p.m. Someone flattened another individual’s tires on Stoneridge Drive. They did so by inserting screws into the rubber.
Yeup that will do it. So will an ice pick. Not that I would know first hand or anything.

4:27 p.m. Someone reports losing three or four $100 bills “all over Flathead Valley.” The money has not yet been located.
Well was it three or four? I think if I lost $100’s I would know exactly how much I lost.

5:16 p.m. A man outside a local motel was attempting to purchase marijuana from passers-by. His efforts proved unsuccessful.
Evidently since he got caught 7:02 p.m. Labrant Road was blocked by a large fallen tree. The issue was quickly resolved by means of a chainsaw.
Was it Leatherface?

10:24 p.m. A grizzly bear attempted to attack a horse on Lake Five Road. The marauding creature fled after being attacked by the reporting party’s dog.
That must have been one tough dog. I bet it was a Chihuahua
Wednesday 7/15

6:47 a.m. Some sort of explosive device detonated in a newspaper delivery tube on Trail Ridge Drive. The receptacle was utterly destroyed.
They are just practicing until they can graduate into blowing up bigger things.

6:51 a.m. A tree fell across a road in Whitefish.
Yes but did anyone hear it fall?

9:38 a.m. Someone cut a gas line and siphoned gasoline on Dogwood Avenue. The fuel was removed from a standard lawn mower.
As opposed to a non-standard one?

9:51 a.m. A 24-year-old male suffered an elbow injury after crashing his bicycle.
Did he hurt his funny bone?

Why do they call it a funny bone anyway. I hit mine all the time and it’s not the least bit funny.

5:49 p.m. A Columbia Falls resident lost their kayak on the North Fork of the Flathead River.
Were they in it at the time?

5:59 p.m. Tools were stolen from a residence on Pickleville Lane in Somers.
Were they pickling tools?

6:39 p.m. An unwanted individual entered his step-parents home on Dun Movin Lane. He was advised against doing so.
I guess he wasn’t Dun Movin

10:04 p.m. Individuals were throwing water balloons on West Valley Drive. Apparently, one of the projectiles shattered the windshield of a nearby vehicle.
Dang I don’t think that was a good idea putting Quickcrete in that there water balloon Fred.

11:06 p.m. Four men attacked an employee of a local party rental store as he was leaving work. They have not yet been apprehended.
Well they were real party poopers.

Thursday 7/16

8:16 a.m. Someone decided to drive on the lawn at a local private school. This detracted from the lawn’s aesthetic appearance.
Maybe they were trying to make some interesting designs in the lawn.

12:45 p.m. On Highway 2, someone spotted a big brown llama eluding captivity. The creature was gone when authorities arrived.
Those Houdini Llamas are very tricky.

4:13 p.m. An individual seen near Hungry Horse Reservoir may have had mental health issues. Forest Service officials were notified.

Was it the aluminum foil cap or the Superman cape that gave him away?

5:15 p.m. A young child captured a bat at an education center on North Fork Road. The family was advised to bring the bat in for disease testing.
Why? Why did they capture the bat? That to me is like playing with mice or snakes. No just NO .

6:54 p.m. At a local grocery store, someone recognized a dog in an unfamiliar car as their own. The dog was returned and all was well.
Maybe the dog just wanted to go for a ride.

9:32 p.m. Smoke on State Park Drive in Whitefish turned out to be from a recreational campfire. The campers were advised to burn only clean wood.
Is that what they mean by clean energy? Washed wood?

10:32 p.m. Someone managed to get their truck stuck on the boat ramp at Emery Bay on the Hungry Horse Reservoir. When confronted by the campground host, the driver became disorderly and hostile.
Don’t take it personally it was just pissed that he got his truck stuck.

11:49 p.m. A daughter and her parents argued in Martin City. The issue was resolved and all parties went to bed.
This makes the police blotter? Parents and their kids arguing? I thought that is just what happened.

2:33 a.m. A gentleman hanging around a local eatery claims that he is with the FBI. He is in reality not with the FBI.
Was he at the Do Drop Inn?




Friday 7/17
6:15 a.m A would-be robbery went awry at a convenience store on Highway 2. Evidently, a woman snatched two cans of beer and bolted to a waiting getaway car. Her partner in crime then drove the car directly into a nearby ditch after which the duo was arrested for shoplifting and DUI.
Maybe they should have waited to rob the store when they were sober.

10:40 a.m. A resident of Plentywood Drive discovered that an empty trailer down the road contained a gaggle of transients. The individuals were asked to move along.
A gaggle of transients? Were they geese?

11:12 a.m. Someone removed a table and chair from a Bigfork restaurant.
I have taken a pack of sugar or two and maybe even made off with a glass or two but a table and chair?

12:15 p.m. A utility trailer came unhooked from a vehicle on Highway 2. This constituted a major hazard for other motorists.
Dang Fred I thought you hooked up the trailer I didn’t know you wanted me to.

12:27 p.m. Someone on Kokanee Bend claims that a neighbor’s horse is standing in a pasture with no access to shade. Authorities responded and found that the horse did indeed have shade available but had chosen to stand in the sun.
Maybe it was getting a tan.
1:33 p.m. While it appeared that a pit bull on Killdeer Lane had no access to shade or water, the creature did indeed have water and liked to lie in the sun.

I don’t blame him. I like to lie in the sun too especially on the beach. Usually though a crowd forms and they try to pull me into the water.
2:30 p.m. Dogs on Mountain View Lane were lying in the sun. Authorities gave the owner suggestions for keeping them in the shade.4:58 p.m. On Anderson Lane, a dog keeps bringing home chickens from a neighbor’s yard. This frustrates the neighbor, who is rather fond of his poultry..
Evidently so is the dog.

7:29 p.m. A 38-year-old male driver hit a cow on Lost Prairie Road. His teeth were knocked out on impact.
The cows or the mans? Do they make dentures for cows?

8:01 p.m. A 20-year-old male fell out of his boat on Echo Lake.
Maybe he just had to pee so he jumped in the water.

9:02 p.m. Someone created speed bumps on Blackhawk Lane in Evergreen. This irritates several drivers in the area

Someone CREATED speedbumps? Out of what?

.9:13 p.m. A Kila resident placed a load of gravel on a neighbor’s property. He became angry after the neighbor removed it.
I am confused he was mad because his neighbor took his own gravel?

.9:56 p.m. Someone was bitten on the nose by a spider at a Hungry Horse bar. He became very ill and began to shake.
Gives new insight to along came a spider and sat down beside her...

10:35 p.m. A resident of River Place claims that a neighbor detonated an explosive device and that a Ford sedan is now on fire. The blast apparently blew the trunk off of the vehicle.
I guess he graduated from blowing up mail boxes.

To The Moon Gladys, To the Moon!

“Wake up” he whispered while shaking me “it’s about to happen.” I shook off sleep looked around the room. It was summer vacation why was I being awakened? I looked over at Matilda who still slept unaware of the importance of this wake up call. I ran down the hall and into the family room where I could hear the television on and those anticipatory words “ten, nine, eight”. I ran to sit next to Buck. The hairs on my arms were standing at attention and I had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Buck looked at me and said “Gladys we are watching history. These guys are going to the moon. The MOON! Do you know how important that is?” I did and I didn’t.

I started watching manned launches when they began televising them. Buck was a space nut. He would build models of Gemini and Apollo capsules. He had a map of the solar systems hanging on the wall and would explain the different planets and how they relate to our planet. He would go into details about how Sir William Hershell was the first to discover the planet Uranus and how it had moons much like our moon orbiting it. Then he would explain Saturn, the planet not the car, and how its rings were discovered by Galileo. He would spend hours with me, his little sister, whom they found under a rock, teaching and explaining one of the things he loved. His lectures were never really lectures they were fascinating. So when he asked me if I knew how important this launch was, I only knew how important it was for him.

We both ran in and drug Matilda out of bed to watch. We didn’t want her to miss this, it was just too important. “Matilda GET UP! You’re going to miss this.” Matilda rose up her head and reluctantly shuffled into the family room with us just in time to hear “lift off” and then to see the fiery rocket blast off into the early morning Florida sky. We sat on the floor in front of the television mouths agape. The information officer at NASA, Jack King, told us what was happening in a play by play commentary aided by Buck’s own explanations. Matilda watched as the Apollo separated from the Saturn rocket and that was when Matilda wandered back to bed. Buck and I sat and watched and soaked in every aspect and nuisances of the NASA control room and what the commentators were telling us.

Four days later after watching Walter Cronkite, David Brinkley and Chet Huntley and our local news reporters we were saturated in all things Apollo 11. It was a hot west Texas July day. We should have been down playing in the creek or at least out climbing one of the Mulberry trees in our front yard. We were neither. We were firmly ensconced in the forbidden “formal living room” watching the big Zenith television. The very one that was reserved for special occasions. Walter Cronkite was on the screen and he was visibly as excited as we. We watched as the spider shaped landing module separated then twirled and left the mother ship. We held our breaths as it made its descent. Then we heard Neil Armstrong announce “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.”

I looked up at my big brother who was riveted. I realized I had been holding my breath and I let out a sigh. He looked over at me and grinned one of the biggest smiles of his life. “We landed on the moon” he breathed out. Then he said it again much louder. We spent the rest of the day glued to the television for any updates while he explained the whole process to me.
Today I watch as everyone talks about that memorable day forty years ago when man landed on the moon. This day holds an additional personal notable remembrance. It marks the special bonding and admiration that was formed between Gladys and Buck.

Pissing Contest

Last fall I posted my bathroom rantings. No I wasn’t in the bathroom ranting. I was ranting about the filthiness of the ladies room. Here go read about it, Ode to Toilet I’ll wait.

This is not about the condition of the bathroom but more about the etiquette of the bathroom. You know what I’m talking about the etiquette of the line. I am sure men’s restrooms have their own rules and regulations like not tapping your foot under the stall and not looking anywhere but straight ahead when you pee. Women have different rules. You see it is the fact that there will be three stalls and two thousand women in line that forces us to make rules. There is a certain protocol that must be followed.

You walk in to the ladies room and there is a line starting at the entrance to the stalls. Here are the rules you must follow. I did not make these up it’s just what you do.
1. Approach the entrance and access the line.
2. Ask the person closest to or at the end of the queue if they are indeed waiting.
3. Take your place in line.
4. Move forward as the line moves forward while shifting from one foot to the other and tuning out the sounds of running water.
Now should you be the first person in the line you have special duties. These duties are much like those that are assigned to the persons seated in the “exit row” in an airplane. You are responsible for making sure no one panics, especially you. They include but are not limited to checking under stall doors for feet and making sure that if there is a broken toilet or a stall sans T.P. you inform those in lined up behind you. This is done bucket brigade style. You know like they did in the old days when people would line up and pass the water filled fire bucket down a line to put out a fire. Only when standing in this line the last thing you want to think about is water sloshing from a bucket. Maybe it’s better said like the old game Telegraph you just hope at the end of the line there’s no T.P. in stall three doesn’t come out wish I had climbed a tree. I believe as long as we adhere to these little rules while queuing for the potty then life will be much less stressful.

Now why am I going through these rules and regulations? I am going over these because sometimes you encounter people who either have never been taught the etiquette of public restrooms or they just don’t care. It is the latter of which I write.

It was a gorgeous day at the beach. We had cordoned off our own piece of beach real estate and set up camp. Beaching is another subject all together. Have you ever noticed that when you set up your space on the beach all of a sudden everyone else who arrives at the beach want to be as close to you as possible? It’s not like we have a big beach umbrella sporting an advertisement that we are handing out free beer. This phenomenon seems to happen not only at the beach but also at the park and in the aisles of the grocery. We had our entertainment just in front of us watching a group of foreigners being chased by the rolling waves.

I had consumed enough water to float a Celebrity Fun ship when I felt the urge. I grabbed my cover-up because I may lie on the beach in my bathing suit, I may flail about spastically in the ocean in my bathing suit, I might even slide onto a surfboard in my suit but I refuse to walk around in nothing but the equivalent of underwear. I know it’s not like everyone hasn’t already seen my whaleish body beached on my towel sizzling like bacon but it just makes me feel better to cover up. Off I hike across searing sand dodging errant volleyballs that look suspiciously like meteors aimed at my straw-hatted head. I arrive at the little cinderblock building and enter the staging area. The line head was a woman in her eighties. Next in line is a woman in her late sixties holding what looks like a Turkish coffee cup. I am next and then a woman who evidently knows the two lead ladies comes in and files in behind me. They are speaking to each other in a language I can not recognize as any I have heard before. I smile, they smile, and we all smile. Several more ladies heeding the call of nature file in line. This is proper etiquette right?

We wait for the familiar sound of the whoosh of a flush and the flick of a stall lock when a *Bogie comes out of nowhere with two devil children in tow. She does not step to the end of the line but instead pushes ahead of not only me, number three, but the octogenarian who is in obvious need. She shoves her no necked monsters toward the stalls only there are none empty. Does this detour the crumb crunchers? No they proceed to crawl under the doors of occupied stalls. There are exclamations of shock and irritation shooting from the occupants of said stalls. She pushes in front of the women in front of me and head towards a stall which happens to be opening.

What do you do in this instance? Do you stand and watch and say nothing? Do you stop her and send her to the rear of the line? If you are not the first person in line is it your duty to handle it?

Tell me what YOU would do.

I AM a Writer Damn It!

I stand fumbling with my drink and looking around the room. There is a sea of people and I obviously do not fit. They all seem to know one another in either a personal or professional setting. There are exaggerated hand gestures and lots of air kisses. I stand and observe. My back to the wall next to the sign that says “Women”. Then what I fear most happens. I hear “so are you famous”? I shift from one foot to other turn and look at the eager eyed woman next to me, “no, I’m nobody”. Then I kick myself. I am not a nobody. I am a somebody. I am just a somebody that no one in that room has ever heard of. “Oh, I was just wondering because I saw that man over there taking your picture” was the reply.

I take a deep breath and said “I am kind of a writer”. My brain immediately is into panic mode and I get that squishy feeling in my stomach because I just know someone is going to start singing “liar, liar pants on fire”. I listen but no one sings the song so I press on in explanation. Why I feel I must explain myself is a mystery to me but I do “I mean I write a blog”. The inquisitor gives a half smile, half smirk and says “oh I see. What kind of blog”. Again I take a deep breath, really I am not good at the self promotion thing. I don’t know what my problem is or why I feel so self conscious. “Oh, it is just stories and stuff. Really it’s pretty random.” She looks at me again with a bit of disgust this time and says “blogs are supposed to be about something”. Okay now I feel really inadequate and scramble in my brain to come up with a purpose for my blog. I come up empty handed. I have no purpose for my blog. I mean I’m not a mommy blogger, nor do I give technical advice. I don’t cook on my blog nor do I give bad photography advice. Heck I don’t even sew or decorate and forget me trying to tell you what the hottest latest fashion trend is. I swallow hard clear my throat and say “my blog is sort of like a Seinfeld episode, a whole lot about nothing.” I can tell she is done with the conversation and she has that how the heck do I get out of here look in her eyes. I decide to let her off the hook and excuse myself to the powder room.

I stand and look in the mirror and wonder why I didn’t stand up for myself. Why didn’t I say “I am a writer and I can be damn funny if I want to?” Is it because I write a blog or is it because I have not been published that I refuse to call myself a writer. Maybe the reason I haven’t been published is because I have never submitted anything. Maybe I haven’t been published because I would rather blog than write a book. I square my shoulders, lift up my chin and poke my tits out. I am steeled and ready to answer the difficult questions. I am ready to go out there and tell the world that I, Gladys, am a writer. I fluff my hair, check for lipstick on my teeth and totter out on my high heels.

I look around for the inquisitor and spot her across the room. I head her way when the security guy stops me and says “ma’am if you’re just a spectator you need to move on into the theater.” I tale a deep breath look that rent-a-cop in the eye and say “I am a writer. I won the KTLA contest for my story about my worst date.” Rent-a-cop sighs heavily and says “ma’am I don’t care if you wrote the bible. If you are not part of the production please go take your seat.” I stand firm and say “I am waiting right here. I won the KTLA contest and I’m waiting for someone from KTLA to come talk to me.” He shakes his head and then goes to harass some movie star’s parents.

I stand there looking for someone from the television station to recognize me. Not that they would, I mean honestly why would they. Why would they even know where to look. I mean they didn’t even say they would meet me there. I just guessed that since they advertised and promoted this thing for the last bazillion days that they would want to personally speak to the person whose story they chose to represent their station. I stood and waited and watched feeling very much like a very small fish in a very small pond. I check my crackberry for a message from the station’s representative only to find nothing. I wait and wonder did I make more of this than it is?

The lights begin to flash and it is time to enter the theater. This is when I realize I am a writer because I am already composing another story in my head.

Random Thoughts 7-16-09 Hollywood Style

It is Friday. Friday Means Friday Fragments over at Half Past Kissing Time. Hey Mrs 4's! Y'all go on over and visit with her. It is also VGNO (virtual girls night out) over at Ann Again and Again. Happy VGNO! And of course it means it's time for Gladys' Random Thoughts...Hollywood Style.

Here are some random thoughts on last night’s movie premier of The Ugly Truth and some “over heards”. I know you are sick of me talking about this movie premier and the contest and all but hang in there it’s almost over. You have to understand I live a very cloistered life these days and well I was just a little underwhelmed with the Hollywoodness of it all.

So let’s start with this:
Did you know that there is a time zone in Hollywood? It is right there on Hollywood Boulevard between Hollywood and Vine and Hollywood and Orange. They are literally 3 blocks from one another and look at the vast difference in time. Well it is Hollywood after all.

It is 7:45 on Hollywood and Vine and yet 3 blocks down it's


4:10. Yes it's that space time continuum. Einstien must have

lived in between Vine and Orange
The Roosevelt Hotel was very hip and historical all in one. The one thing I don’t understand is how they expect you to put your make-up on using a bug light? I mean it did make me look kind of dreamy in a Hollywood-y way.

This is the real color of the bathroom lighting.

Why is it when I go to some cool function I turn into a total dork? I mean I bought this really cool green dress that showed way too much skin and you know what? I chickened out and wore black. It’s like I don’t even know myself or at least I won’t admit I do. I mean I’m too cool in a Hollywood-y way.

We met this young man’s parents. His name is Eric Winter. I am going to take a minute and speak to just Mr. Winter, Eric’s dad.
Mr. Winter you son did not have a little part in the movie. He is a full fledged movie star. It is alright to be proud of him. Heck I would have been shouting out in the lobby “My boy gets almost naked in this movie and he looks good.” I know you said you had no idea were he got the crazy notion to act and that it came out of nowhere and you didn’t know anything about the movie. Well let me tell you he did good. He did real good. Now go BRAG ON HIM! RIGHT NOW! I’m waiting!

This guy?

This guy was too cool. I am going to call him Say. We walked in and they had piles of popcorn and a cacophony of soft drinks. This guy was standing by the tables and I said “Say, could I get a water or even a cup for water from the drinking fountain?” This man found me a bottle of water and then gave me an extra. Then he was great enough to take a picture with me even though he said he doesn’t take pictures. Say is the nicest guy in Hollywood. You GO SAY!

Overheard at the movies:
Two suits sitting behind us in the nose bleed section:
Suit # 1: So did you work on this production?
Suit # 2: Naw I just came for the popcorn.

Two tightly swathed and heavily botoxed middle aged women standing waiting for Gerard Butler to appear:

Fan # 1: Can you see him?
Fan # 2: No, not unless he is blond and the size of a #2 pencil.
Fan # 1: Well he looked like he was sporting more than that in “The 300”
Finally this was my conversation in the ladies room of the Roosevelt Bar.
A very drunk and wobbly twenty something stumbled out of the stall in her 5 inch stilettos. She looks in the mirror and then to me as I am washing my hands and said “hey, do you know me?” I smiled and said “I don’t think so.” She belched a drunken belch and said “good, cause I don’t want anyone who knows me to see me like this.” She then turned and proceeded back to the stall to throw up her liver and her kidneys.
Finally I am going to leave you with a thought. Thoughts become things... choose the good ones!

The Ugly Truth about The Ugly Truth

First of all let me just say that I am not usually star struck. I say not usually but that danged Gerard Butler is just too cute for words. I mean he looks good on the big screen and he looks just as cute in person. No he didn't kiss me and thank God because I wouldn't have wanted history to repeat itself.

Second of all I found out tonight that I am a dinosaur. I am old. I am ancient and unhip. Our seat mates were two young ladies. We got to chatting about how each of us came to possess tickets to the premier. One of the girl's aunt is a literary agent who reads scripts then schlepps them all over town to get the studios to schlepp them some more to investors. They asked me how I got tickets. I told them my story of winning the KTLA Ugly Truth Contest. They wanted to know the story. I gave them the reader's digest version of me puking in Mr. LookedLike Barry Gibb's mouth. Guess what? They didn't know who the BeeGees were. They had never heard of them. I sat there for a minute and tried to think of a group that is popular today with which I could compare them. You know what? The only one I could think of was the Jonas Brothers. It hurt me physically to say that the Jonas Brothers were like the BeeGees. Not the Jonas Brothers are bad but they don't have Barry Gibb.

We also met the parents of a couple of actors but alas we did not personally chat with any of the actual movie stars. You know what else I noticed tonight? The Hollywood of my youth, the one that I thought existed, really doesn't. I expected everyone to be dressed to the hilt and be dripping in diamonds and that would just be the men. I am not saying they weren't dressed nice but Gerard didn't even shave. I just can't see Humphrey Bogart not shaving for a premier.

Now my lovlies it is way past this star struck ladies bedtime. I'll have more for you later.

My Day in A Nutshell

I am sure by now you are all wondering what, where and how I will be attending the premier of The Ugly Truth. I will be arriving in style. My hair will be somewhat perfectly quaffed. Well as good as it can get for a nappy headed white girl. I will be wearing a lovely creation from either Écouter (Target) or a snappy ensemble from Marshall’s. I was going to wear a vintage piece but I can’t remember where I stored it when I cleaned all the cute thin clothes from my closet. You notice I said “thin” clothes, believe me that is relative. What I should say is thinner. As in before I was fat but I am thinner now.

Let’s go back to the hair portion. I got to see one of my favorite people today. She gives really great shampoo. She is the amazing Mz Lola Cabana. She was a show girl with yellow ribbons in her hair and a dress cut down to there. No wait, wrong Lola. She takes my frizzed out fuzz and tames it. She fluffs and puffs and pulls and rolls until it actually resembles something close to hair and not a Brillo pad. She kept introducing me around the salon as “This is my friend Gladys. She is famous.” You see Lola and I believe if you state it will be so. I need to take this opportunity to tell you that not only is Lola the “hair whisperer” but she also designs, creates and writes. She is multi-talented that one. I felt so revered. I felt so important. I felt so famous. Thank you Lola of the Cabana.

I then rushed off to find something to wear that was neither flip flops nor cut off jeans. Here is where I will confess one of my deepest secrets. I am a tightwad. I hate spending money on myself. I like to look cute and wear stylish clothes but I had to spend money on them. I guess I just keep waiting for them to magically appear in my closet. I hope to open my closet one day and find it full of all those men I want to dress me. I dream I would slide back the door and there staring at me would me Michael, Isaac, Kenneth and Calvin not to mention a few Versace’s and some Cavali’s. Oh I’m not biased. I wouldn’t mind a few women in my closet too. Some Coco’s, Lily and even a few Vera’s. (For you men out there those are all clothing designers) Unfortunately that never happens. I instead look at my watch which says it’s now after five p.m. I stop at the first store and browse through their over stuffed racks of the latest fashions. I look around in crisis because I have no idea what to wear. I spot this woman who looks like one of the Real Housewives of Orange County. She is dressed to the nines and has all the right accouterments. I meekly say “excuse me”. She turns and looks at me and says “yes”? I clear my throat and push through “would you wear this to a movie premier?” RHOOC looks at the dress and then back at me in my schlumpadinka wear and says “you buy a lot of black don’t you?” Well yeah. I mean it’s easy, it’s slimming and did I say it’s easy? If you buy everything either black or white then it’s like buying garanimls. Do you remember them? They were kid’s clothes that had animals on the tags and all you had to do was match the animals for coordinating outfits. So here I am in my zebra/zebra outfit holding a black dress looking once again like my boxer after hearing “doggie doo”. RHOOC pulls out a bright green dress with some schmaltz on the top and says “try this one, instead. You need some color.” I looked at the bright green dress and said what the heck. The only problem was there really isn’t much of a dress there so I said “would you wear a sweater with it?” She smiled that knowing smile and said “Grandma’s and schlumpadinka’s wear sweaters over great dresses.” I smiled and whispered “yeah, I guess so.” Off to the dressing room I headed. I tried on the green dress and it wasn’t too bad and the price wasn’t too bad. I mean the dress could have been a burlap bag if it were a dollar ninety-nine I would have probably called it perfect. I am standing in the dressing stall when I hear a knock on the door. I open it to find RHOOC standing there. “So how does it fit” she asked. Now I have to tell you I was touched. I was verklempt. I did the perfunctory twirl and she agreed it would work.

Then it was off to my second stop, Ecouter or for those of you who call it by its American name Target. I needed a new set of hot rollers. Oh shut up they do to still make them. I just don’t get it. I mean I bought my last set when I was in high school just a mere hundred years ago, you would think they would still work. I guess they just don’t make things the way they used to anymore. So I am standing in line waiting for the woman in front of me to check out. She is purchasing gardening things for children. She must have had two children because she purchased two of everything one in pink the other in red. When it came to the gardening gloves the pink ones rang up at the sale price but the red ones remained full price. She questioned the clerk why she rung the red ones up at full price. The clerk looked at her and stated that the red ones weren’t on sale. The woman began to moan then she began to rail on the clerk. She began to curse and carry on. I again look at my watch, it is now after seven. I listened to this woman vetch about a difference of about a dollar. Now I know things are tight. I realize we are in a recession. I understand people are squeezing a penny until it turns into a dime. What I don’t understand is what good she thought yelling and cursing at the poor little clerk would do.
Now I’m on a deadline. You see just like in college if I’m not home by 10:00 pm I get locked out. No Kahuna is not a dictator. It is the park we are staying in closes the gate at 10 and you can’t get in. I’m doing the math in my head trying to add up how much longer it will take to check out, get packed, eat then travel back to my humble covered wagon parked in the oaks. It is going to be tight. I then turned my attention back to the debacle that is unfolding in front of me. The woman was now red as a beet and I was able to count her pulse from the vein protruding on her forehead. That’s it I had had enough. I could take no more. Out of my mouth poured forth my thoughts. My filter had fallen off and I began to speak “Does it really matter? I mean it’s a dollar. Just don’t buy the gloves if it is too much. Is it worth yelling and screaming at this poor clerk who doesn’t have the authority to change the price? Is it worth having a heart attack over? I mean honestly it is just some kid’s gloves.” The woman stopped her diatribe and looked at me like I had just grown a third eye. She looked at me and said “I have two children I can’t just take one of them gloves and not the other.” Am I the only one who sees how simple this is? No I don’t mean go home and lock one in the closet while the other gets to play with their new pink gloves. I mean don’t buy the gloves or do and stop complaining. I smiled my sweetest smile and said “then don’t buy the gloves. They won’t miss them. Really it’s not worth making yourself and everyone else miserable. I mean what are you going to do if you don’t get the red gloves for the sale price? Are you going to go home and throw them at your kid and say here are your damn gloves? Really it’s not hard. Just buy the gloves and go home and love your kids.” She stared at me and then turned to the clerk and said “ring them up.”

That’s my day in a nut shell. I’m the nut and the world is my shell. Next installment will be from Hollywood.

Seeing Stars

I hope to be seeing stars. No I’m not waiting for Bugs Bunny to sneak up behind me and hit me on the head with a huge sledge hammer he ordered from Acme. I mean movie stars. I am so excited I could spit. Now explain to me why when someone is excited beyond words all they can do is spit? Is it because you become like one of Pavlov’s dogs only the bell is different for everyone? I know you are just dying to know why I’m over here spitting and spewing. Oh come on you want to know, don’t you?

About a month ago I was lying in bed sipping my morning coffee watching the news. Kahuna was discussing some major newsworthy news story when I stopped him cold. “Did you hear that?” He stopped talking looked at the T.V. squinted his eyes in concentration then looked back and said “what”? I sighed took another sip of coffee and said “the contest”. He shook his head and then went back to his explanation as to why some woman shouldn’t have said something about being better than some man who wants to be judge or president or something.

I had seen it even if he hadn’t. They had a contest on the Los Angeles news station to attend a movie premier. The name of the movie is “The Ugly Truth”. It stars Katherine Hiegl and Gerard Butler. The contest was to send in your worst dating story. You know me I ALWAYS have a story so I submitted one. (Here it is read it here) I really didn’t think I would have a snow ball’s chance in hell of winning when I entered. Not that I was cold and crystalline but that the odds were about even. I bucked up and I edited a bit and then I pressed that send button and honestly forgot all about it.

I continued to see the commercials on the KTLA morning news and wondered who might have won. I in fact was a bit disheartened because I just knew some young girl or guy who had a fresh college or high school horror story about dating had in fact won. I mean who wants to hear about something that happened 35 years ago to little old Gladys. I mean besides you, my faithful readers. I did not however lose any sleep over it or miss any meals. Heck I don’t miss many meals over anything. I’m kind of like the post office; neither sleet nor snow nor dark of night will keep Gladys from chow. I digress.

Then the little light flashed on my crackberry. I drooled a little then checked my emails. There staring at me was a message from of all people KTLA. It was ominous and stark and very cryptic. It said:

Good Morning Gladys
This message pertains to your submission for “The Ugly Truth” contest sponsored by KTLA.

Please call me at 800 BR 549 no later than 12 noon today. Thank you.

I read this and wondered what I had done wrong now. I looked at the clock on my phone and it was 2:45 p.m. As in the after NOON. I of course panicked. I mean what if I had to call the news station or a bomb went off or something somewhere. Okay I know I’ve watched way too many Bruce Willis movies. I hurriedly pushed the numbers into the phone then waited for the familiar trill. It rang once, twice, three times a lady. Oh wait no, wrong story. The phone was answered by a very nice woman who informed me I had reached KTLA’s sales department. Wait I wasn’t buying anything. What did KTLA want to sell me? Or did they want to sail me? Maybe they just wanted to sale me. Anyway I said “Hello, this is Gladys, someone sent me an email and said I should call. Since I do what I’m told I’m calling. A little late but here I am.” The nice lady laughed and said “Oh thank goodness. We didn’t think we were going to be able to reach you.” I of course went into hyper paranoid mode. I listened intently for explosions from the bombs my call wasn’t in time to stop. Then the nice lady said “Did you enter Ugly Truth contest?” I thought for a moment wondering if I should say yes or no. I mean I am the youngest of three kids, sometimes it is wise to wait before you confess. I took a breath and reluctantly said “yes. Why am I in trouble?” The nice woman chuckled and replied “No, as a matter of fact you won.” What? I won? My little pea brain could not wrap around those words. I never win. Well I did win a Target Gift Card from a fellow blogger and a book one time but not a major award. I never even won a leg shaped lamp with fish net stockings marked FRAGILE.
I squealed and gasped and then began to gush “I’d like to thank the academy, my mother and father for giving me the gift of gab and most of my loving husband who has encouraged me.” Then I heard another chuckle and the nice lady cleared her throat. “We need to know what name to reserve the tickets under.” I cocked my head to one side much like my boxer does when you say “doggie doo”, “what tickets” I asked the nice lady. “The tickets to the premier of The Ugly Truth. You won tickets to the premier. We might want to interview you Friday morning on the Morning Show. Can you do that?” I sat a moment trying to take it all in and process what she had just said. “I won tickets” I queried? “Yes, dear, you won tickets. You and a guest are going to the world premier of The Ugly Truth.”
Now you know why I will be seeing stars.