Farm Market Roulette

Me: Hi, I'd like to order a Dinner for 2 for pick up.

Her: OK.  

Her: Hello?

Me:  Oh, sorry.  I didn't know you were ready.  May I have the roasted veggies, polenta, & marinara?  And could that be ready for 5:15, if possible?

Her: OK, is that all?  Do you want another one?

Me: It's two servings, right?

Her: You want two of these?

Me: Wait, I thought it was a Dinner for 2 -- that there are two servings?

Her: Do you want two for $12 or 1 for $6.99?

Me: I want the two for $12.

Her: OK.  And will this be for here or to go?

Me: To go.

Her:  And your name?

Me: Amy.  [It's my food alias.]

Her: OK, Amy.  We'll see you at 6:15!

Me: 5:15!

Her: Oh, right!  *giggle*

Seaside's on Fire. Of course. *&^%$#

Who knew it would end up this way?  Certainly not me.  I never gave the future much thought growing up.  But maybe that was best because if I had, I doubt I would have predicted a mostly crippled mother by 25, a deceased father by 27, the destruction of my childhood beach house not by Sandy, but by new owners, and now, the inferno that is Seaside Heights.  And, most importantly, that my mother would live hundreds of miles away and I'd only see her once or twice a year.  How on earth did this happen?  My mother's parents lived around the block from us.  My father's parents lived 10 minutes away.  My maternal grandparents' home seemed like an extension of our own and my father made it a point to visit his mother once a week.  

And me?  My mother just vacationed in Virginia Beach for the week and on her way out the door of my house tonight, she said, "Try to call me on occasion and not just text."  

She was raised Catholic after all...  

I'm an only child.  She's my only intimate witness to my childhood.  There are times I feel like we have absolutely nothing in common and then she sends me a text telling me that she's arrived safely at her beach house and that she misses me already and I am reduced. to. tears.  

Don't even know where they came from.  But I can see and hear the clock ticking and I just have to wonder, "How on earth did we wind up this way?" and "How much time do we have left?"

And so, I'll turn this disjointed, regretful post into a plea, maybe partially prompted by my mother's companion:

GET YOUR KNEES DONE.

:)

I love you, Moo.  I'm so very sorry that we're so far apart, but you still make me laugh harder than most and cry harder than most, so there's that.  Thanks for coming to see us and we look forward to many future trips.  Even to Florida.  GACK.

At least it's not Pennsylvania.  

Where My Gays At?

Forgive the grammar, I’m channeling my inner Kathy Griffin.

What a day yesterday was!  I watched the decisions come in on SCOTUS Blog and got all choked up alone in my cubicle.  Surely there would be a public celebration later in the day and sure enough, there was.  We had a rally and parade (admittedly the world’s shortest) starting at the Federal Courthouse in Norfolk.  The local paper reported that there were over 100 people there.  Which means it probably skewed closer to 100.  

100 gay people and straight allies.  Subtract out the straight allies and we’re at less than 100 gay people.

In Norfolk, VA.  A military town.  

You can throw a stone at a Sunday softball game and hit more than 100 lesbians.

Where was everyone??

I can glance at my Facebook friends and count off at least42 gay people.  Almost half the number of people who attended the rally.  

None of them were there.  

I realize it may have been short notice and/or people may have been unable to attend for whatever reason.  But all 42?  

Where was everyone?

You are walking billboards for Equality.  You have to come out to events like this.  Your closest friends, family, and coworkers may know you’re gay, but what about complete strangers?  Or maybe you’re out and proud all the time.  But it’s a numbers game, ladies and gentlemen.  We need to be seen in public at times like this in greater numbers.  

We are a minority, but we are mighty.  We WILL NOT stand for discrimination any longer.  We must celebrate together and fight together and particularly in Virginia, DEMAND OUR RIGHTS.

PLEASE, get involved.  Many of you may be doing things behind the scenes and that’s great, of course.  I need to get more involved myself.  But exposure is paramount.  We need to be seen so that we will not be ignored.  The next time you hear of a rally, please come.  

And in the meantime, I’ll try to get the organizers to schedule beer and food trucks.  That should help persuade everyone.  ;)

Scrambled blog & cheese

My girlfriend’s father is getting married this Saturday – three days after the Supreme Court rules on two potentially huge marriage equality cases. I’ve got to be honest – if we lose, that ceremony is going to be particularly difficult to sit through. Especially since my girlfriend and I are among the sanest and most committed and healthiest of the attendees. And yet, as of right now, and god-forbid Saturday, we can’t get married. Oh, we can get “married,” but not with all the legal door prizes afforded the straights.

I was thinking about the wedding earlier and decided I’d tell my girlfriend that if they have the tragic bouquet toss, that we should each do everything we can to catch it. And then I thought about what a demeaning tradition that is. Do women still compete with each other to get married? Is catching the bouquet and Mr. Right still such a desperate goal for women? It’s difficult for me to appreciate. And then I wondered if the majority of men even really want to get married. The whole thing still seems so skewed towards women. You don’t see movies about men desperately searching for and catching the right woman.

And then it occurred to me….we created all of this nonsense. We zeroed in on the biology of human reproduction and dictated the rest. If we had just recognized that different people exist and have every right to exist and can form unions any way they please instead of declaring at some point that only a man and woman could have a marriage, none of this would have to be fixed. If fifteen consenting adults want to have a binding contract sharing their money, home, and names, who gives a f*ck? Are we not adults who can figure this stuff out for ourselves? If those same fifteen people want to raise children and the children's welfare is healthy, who gives a f*ck? The Federal government offers incentives for people to marry in an effort to build stability in the family unit. Not for nothing, the divorce statistics would indicate otherwise.

Similarly, if we had treated people fairly from the beginning, there'd be no need for the Voting Rights Act (which took a hit today).  SCOTUS struck down a provision of the Voting Rights Act claiming it's no longer necessary because the states that had discriminatory practices in the past have increased the voter diversity -- because of the Voting Rights Act!  It's akin to manic depressives not taking their medication anymore when they're manic because they believe they're happy and no longer depressed...  And then, they crash into a deeper depression because they're off their meds.

And then there's dear Paula Deen.  Anne Rice posted this to her Facebook today:

Seriously??

Let's look beyond the wholly inappropriate use of "crucifixion" and "lynch mob," and focus on the fact that this woman has admittedly used the N-word, doesn't think it's that bad if it isn't said in a "mean" way (please see I'm Not Thinking Bad Thoughts), is very comfortable with jokes centering on Jewish and black people, and wished she could have what amounts to house slaves at her brother's wedding!

And we're supposed to feel sorry for her?  SHE DID THIS.  The people who came before her did this.  Once again, if ALL people historically had been treated fairly and as human beings, none of this would be happening. 

SCOTUS, you've dropped the ball on the Voting Rights Act and the white chick who wouldn't have gotten accepted into that college anyway.  Please pull yourselves together and DO THE RIGHT THING TOMORROW.

Leave marriage to the church. They can base it on whatever book they want.

My girlfriend and I want to get married and start a family. We’re both productive members of society. We more than hold our own in the brains and ethics department. Isn’t that a good thing? We’ll call it a civil union if that’s what it takes. The religions can trademark Marriage.

These boundaries and bindings were created out of thin air. They are discriminatory.

Enough already.

DO THE RIGHT THING, SCOTUS.

Rest in peace, Neighbor

Just checking in to report that, apparently, I’m the biggest a-hole on the planet. How do I know this? Because of this exchange yesterday, outside my house:

“Hello! Excuse me?” came from a woman across the street.

[Oh, here we go…]

“Yes. Hi,” as I continued toward my car.

“Hi! My name’s Rachel…,” expecting me to tell her mine. I didn’t. I’m not sure why. “Is that your house? Do you live there?”

[I don’t want to freely admit I’m almost never home. What if she or a friend breaks in?]

“I just…are you going to rent your house? It’s awfully cute.”

“Thanks.  That's the plan.  I’m getting it fixed up with the hope of renting it soon.” I squeaked out, uncomfortably. What was this, twenty questions?

“I thought you might be. I’ve seen the contractors and the lawn people, but didn’t see you much. My mother owns this house,” as she points behind her. “She just passed. My mother just passed.”

And this is what it took to knock me out of my standoffishness. “I’m so sorry.” And I was. Truly.

“Thank you. She had lung cancer and had surgery, but there were complications and everything just went downhill kind of fast.”

[Why didn’t I know she had lung cancer? Why didn’t I ever say Hello to her or introduce myself? She was so proud in that picture…]

“I’m so sorry. I remember the article when she bought the house……”

“Yeah...  I guess I’ll just look for a rental sign or something?”

“OK,” realizing I should give her my number or take hers, but still not willing to make that overture.  “I’m so sorry about your mom,” I concede. 

“Thanks.”

I am the biggest a-hole on the planet. Why am I so private when it comes to my neighbors? I don’t want to be in their business and I don’t want them in mine.  I've been this way for as long as I can remember. 

I remember the article about her. I had planned on going over to introduce myself. But does anyone do that anymore? No one welcomed me to the neighborhood. The only reason I even know one neighbor is because a friend worked with her and her son befriended me when he was younger. Another neighbor across the street tormented me regularly with his leaf blower and his wife only spoke to me once. She complained that my dog was defecating in my front yard and then warned me that children were cutting through my back yard. She leaned in and whispered that they were, “black,” as if that would horrify me and seemingly forgetting that she, too, was black.

I always remembered the article about her. I wanted to paint my front door red but didn’t want to take away from hers. I thought it would be rude since I knew how much it meant to her.

Beyond the contents of the article, I didn’t know much about her. She had a gray Fiat that she used to drive around the house so that she could pull forward out of her driveway. At the height of the recession, she had a grizzled man living in a trailer in her backyard, but that didn’t last long. I think she may have gotten a small dog recently.

I am a terrible neighbor.

Here’s the article. She was so proud. And she reminded me a little bit of my grandmother, Grace, in the first photo. I’m sorry, Mrs. Spear. I’ll do better.

70-year-old proves age isn't a factor in purchasing a first home  

Sundown

The bad guys got guns, so the good guys got guns.
The bad guys got bigger guns, so the good guys got bigger guns.

They lived in fear and arrogance and prayed to a mythical god for answers because knowing there was a plan would make sense of the senseless.

And they sorted everyone into victims and perpetrators because it was easier than looking in the mirror and stating the only plausible explanation:

"I AM TO BLAME.

I think in terms of us and them instead of brothers and sisters. I think I am more important than my fellow man. As long as I value myself, my people, and my things above everyone else's, there will be no peace."

They all armed themselves and invited their own destruction instead of loving each other so that all would thrive.

They were a foolish lot and the earth sighed in relief when they were all gone.

Happy New Month Eve!

No more moustaches, no more blog alarms, no more pretending pumpkin pie has no calories...November's coming to an end. And with her, the end of NaBloPoMo 2013. I came, I posted, I have a list of blogs that I didn't have time to write this month.

Will I ever?

Perhaps a book...

Blog Posts I Never Wrote. Make people pay for something they probably didn't want to read in the first place. Brilliant!

As always, thanks to the four of you for your unwavering support. And as your payment, I leave you with this...



A little Sally Field Camel Toe! :)

Burger Night

Norfolk's a small town once you tap into the social grid. We like to bill ourselves as a city and we do have a small city vibe with arts and entertainment and a technology undercurrent. Many who see her true potential as untapped wring their hands and wonder how to keep the vibrant artistic and/or educated youngsters or how to attract more, but some of us think she may be just a-ok as she stands. These things have a way of working themselves out. I wouldn't want Norfolk to get too popular. Then I might have to wait in longer lines to do the things I enjoy. :)

But I digress...

One of the things I love about Norfolk -- and one of the things that makes going to the grocery store unshowered and disheveled so darn inconvenient -- is that once you tap into the grid, you're likely to run into friends everywhere.

Sure enough, Girlfriend and I met another couple for dinner at a relatively-new fancy shmancy restaurant that happens to have discounted burgers on Thursday nights. Delicious burgers at that! And we weren't there too long before two of our friends walked in, followed by two others. Granted, I was wondering why I hadn't been invited, but that's beside the point. ;) How great to be able to see some missed friends and check in and throw some hugs around! I may run the risk of running into people at Harris Teeter when I'm looking my worst, but it's worth it to always see a friendly face when I stray from home.

Norfolk, you're gonna be ok. Keep striving to be better and we'll keep showing up.

Damn, those were some great burgers! I can't wait to go back. :)

Do do do do do do do dooo do do do do

The highlights of the last 24 hours have included maniacal high-pitched dog barking, dog vomit, dog licking, a clogged toilet, a rear-ending (of the vehicle sort) with a little whiplash, a malfunctioning parking garage pass, and some court testimony. I'm sore and a little worn out -- physically and emotionally.

And then...

The soothing strains of Vince Guaraldi's "A Charlie Brown Christmas."

Ahhhhhhhhhh...........

Everything's going to be OK.

But what a slew of emotions this TV special brings about. I remember watching it at my paternal grandparents' house. Which means it was probably shown on Sunday nights in the 70s. We were often there on Sunday nights. Much to my grandfather, Charlie's, chagrin. He'd scoot his rocking chair up thisclose to the TV and cup his right ear so he could hear "60 Minutes" while everyone else in the room tried to speak quietly or not at all. Having since suffered the frustration of people talking through one's program, I now have a better understanding of his position -- both literal and figurative.

I'm guessing he watched Charlie Brown with us as well. He loved Charlie Brown and had some of the original comic collections from the 50s. I loved flipping through them.

Group dance scene is on. :)

Am I the only one who feels guilty about religion when I see this? Such conflict. It was all so much easier when so many of us dutifully went to church and believed the stories... Linus' speech still gets me square in the heart and soul, but...

I'm not sure where Christianity fits into the fabric of my life anymore. But since I was raised by a village of Catholics and Lutherans, it's still in the tapestry -- even if the tapestry's up on a wall, as a family heirloom.

Too many thoughts. And I want to shut this thing off and watch the show. So, until tomorrow...

"...and on Earth peace, goodwill toward men."

Yeah, yeah, yeah

And so it's happened. I have to blog, I want to go to bed on time (in 14 minutes!), and I have NO IDEAS. I've been surfing the net and facebook for much of the evening to see if something catches my eye, to no avail... And for much of this time, there's been an undercurrent of one small white dog obsessively

lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
(it'd be great if I got paid by the word)
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
lick
licking the couch and a blanket and her foot and nearly any other surface she comes across.

My brain exploded about 2 hours ago.



She really is sweet and cute. Approximately 2% of any given day. She began this day at about 4:50am, barking loudly in the same frequency as nails on a chalkboard. Brain was severed at that point. I had recovered from the barking by about 5:20, when I got out of bed, only to discover my dog ralphing as I was about to get into the shower.

Why do they hate us?