Text Conversations with Mom

Me: What is Roy doing tonight?

Mom: Hanging with UJ.

Me: I don’t think you are supposed to say hanging when you are referring to guys.

Mom: OH!

I preordered my Mom a Kindle Fire for Christmas. Since she told me that is what she wanted, she obviously knew what she was getting when I told her that the gift I ordered for her had arrived. So we began referring to it as the ‘pony’. Because, what girl doesn’t want a pony for Christmas?

Me: Do you have an Amazon account?

Mom: No. I have been down the Amazon, but I don’t have an account.

Me: I’m giving you the pony early. It’s crapping on my driveway.

Mom: Oh goody, I need some fertilizer!

I was complaining to Mom about being asked by several different people to run a last minute errand when I was trying to get out of town.  Mostly, I was complaining about a particular errand where I was asked to front the cash to pay for the item I would be obtaining. It was not a small about of cash and I had doubts that I would be repaid in a timely manner.

Mom:  Just always say you are a little short of cash.  By the way could you pick up something for me at the mall :)

Me: You suck

Mom: You can’t say that to me. I’m your mother!

Me: Be nice or Santa will return the pony.

On the trip over the river and through the woods to Grandmother’s house Mom left from T-town and we left from Joplin at roughly the same time. An hour into the 3.5ish hour trip I was unbelievably bored. I’d had a nap. Harassing iWof was out of the question. He was fighting the holiday traffic so I cut him some slack. I know. Way out of character for me. So I did the next best thing… harassed my Mom via text.

Me: Are we there yet?

Me: Are we there yet?

Me: Are we there yet?

Me: Are we there yet?

Me: I brought champagne so we can have Mimosas for breakfast… … Now tell me what a good daughter I am.

Mom: Excellent!

It was a bad sign when we both started drinking Mimosas the minute our feet hit the floor Thanksgiving morning. I was coming down with a cold and felt like crap.

The week before TSS and I had dinner one evening at a restaurant that was heavily damaged by the tornado. They had reopened so we decided to give them our support. So did half of Joplin but TSS arrived early and snagged us a table. Unfortunately, our waitress was hacking and coughing as she waited on us. I’d hoped to dodge the bullet, but took it right in the chest.

So waking up feeling like crap set the tone for the holiday. By the time all the dishes were washed I had decided to cut our visit short and go home the next morning. We were supposed to go on a tour of some Hermann wineries on Friday. But, obviously that wasn’t going to happen. We were going home. Then to sweeten the pot I got into a knock-down-drag-out argument with my Grandmother at the breakfast table Friday morning. Unfortunately, we burned through all the champagne at Thursday’s breakfast.

Now, I know there is never any point in arguing with my Grandmother. Everybody knows that so they keep their peace and don’t say to her the things she needs to hear. But I hadn’t slept well for two nights. I REALLY can’t sleep at her house. Mom was warned that there were a couple of issues that were really eating at me and she needed to keep her hand across my mouth all weekend. But she just sat there during the argument. I was saying what she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to be the one in the doghouse.

I really don’t mind being in the doghouse. If everyone is pissed at you they leave you alone. Our clan is enormous so there is always SOMEBODY pestering you.  Unfortunately, sometimes no matter how hard you try to piss them off they come back wanting more.

I’m sure when Aunt #1 gets wind of this episode I will be getting a stern lecture.

But at least Mom is still talking to me. She texted her take on the whole mess…..

Mom: There’s my girl. Show Mommy a big smile.

Living Life

I’m living life with no regrets. They’re on their way but aren’t here yet.

OMG. There is nothing like reading your drunken blog post from the previous night.

Some Days

Some days are smooth like Grey Goose™

Some days are like cheap Russian vodka

Today was totally a cheap Russian vodka day. Tomorrow will totally be an analgesic cocktail and antacid day. I want my mommy!

The sweet thing about being ‘technically’ an only child is that when you declare that you want your mommy, she actually responds. Today I sent a text message to my mom that said, ‘I WANT MY MOMMY!!!!’.  She responded: Okay, I will come up there tonight. So I said, ‘What time?’.  Later she called saying she was at the dentist and they were running behind. Since it would make her leave T-town late she was going to wait until tomorrow morning to come to J-town.

Really, that was okay with me, due to my plans to get sloppy drunk tonight. What I am saying is that I had a bad day at work.  Because I don’t want you to flat line I won’t bore you with details. But suffice it to say… I have decided to invent the site to site transporter so my job will become obsolete. But then I won’t care that my job is obsolete because, hey, I just invented the site to site transporter. I’m working on the schematics as we speak. No wait. First I have to master molecular science. Give me a minute here.

Oh who am I kidding?  I can’t feel my extremities.  I can still say extremities, just can’t feel them.

On the way home from work I made iWof stop at the Big Evil Giant’s wholesale club that makes you pay for a membership in order to shop. Actually, I don’t even pay for it. My mom pays for my membership. But I pay her cell phone bill. And she supported me for 18 years… so I call it a wash. And … I’m … rambling.

So, at the BEGWCTMYPFAMIOTS I bought a bottle of the afore mentioned Grey Goose™.  I also bought a twelver of Orange Crush™.  iWof pointed out that I could buy the Orange flavored Grey Goose™ and get the same effect. But then I told him to shut up and pay the lady. Then I gave him the right eyebrow high, lips pursed, glare. He chuckled at me behind my back, but he ponied up the debit card. I know what he is thinking. He thinks I’m going to get sloppy drunk and he is going to get lucky.  (Oh, God. I’m going to regret this post tomorrow.) But in that case he is going to have to time it just right because I’m about two sheets away from flat on my back with my tongue hanging out, one foot on the floor to stop the room from spinning.

Oh who am I kidding?  I can’t feel my extremities.  I can still say extremities, but it sounds kinda slurred.  Even to me.

Insomnia

My friend Yo!Mamma sent me an email after 11 PM the other night. If you know me well, you know that I am a night owl. If it weren’t for the unreasonable hours when they make me come to work, most of the time I would be going to bed as the sun came up. On the weekend that is usually the case. I’m a night creature. I don’t get enough sleep because I have to get up at 6 AM to go to work during the week.

As a result, I was wide awake, sitting at my desk writing when the email from Yo!Mamma popped. I told her to go to bed because she had to get up early the next morning. She responded.

Yo!Mamma:  Yes, but when Insomnia comes for a visit, I have to oblige :)

Me: And she is SUCH a bad house guest. Stays up all night.

After midnight the humor is a bit punchy.

I Have A Twin...Apparently

This afternoon I went to a book signing by a local author. As I approached the table the author looked up and said, ‘Well, there’s my favorite cousin’. Immediately, my mind started churning trying to come up with the connection. It wasn’t an unreasonable presumption that I was somehow related to this individual. I’ve often said that you can’t spit around here without hitting one of my cousins. My mom is one of 10 and my father is one of 5. Both of my parents are from very prolific families and have dozens of cousins of their own. So I’m often told by someone that they are my cousin and I have no earthly idea where they are connected.

As I stood there smiling like an idiot trying to ascertain the relationship the author wrote in my book: ‘To Cindy, my favorite cousin.’

I became embarrassed, but at a loss as to how to correct the mistaken identity without embarrassing this author. But I didn’t get an opportunity because he began introducing me to his co-author who signed my book and said, ‘You’re related to this guy?’ Before I could answer he said, ‘Yes, she’s my cousin.’ Oh dear. So I kept on smiling as they handed my book to a third person sitting there who had written a short story in the book.

And then to complete the awkwardness… the author decided to take a picture. So I stood there smiling and holding my book while he took my picture. Well, now there is evidence of the mistake. Crap. I can envision him showing the picture around to family and someone saying, ‘That’s not Cindy.’ The author will then wonder who came to his book signing with an uncanny resemblance to his cousin. He will also probably wonder why I didn’t correct the mistake. I’m wondering that myself.

But I was very amused. Normally, I would have hung around and visited with the group a bit. But I decided a quick escape would be the best way to avoid further embarrassment and awkwardness for both of us. So I quickly walked out of the bookstore and straight to my car grinning like an idiot. When I had closed the door, started the engine and cranked the stereo, I burst out laughing. Then I laughed all the way home.

iWof asked me what was so funny when I walked in the house chuckling. iWof is very literal. I recanted the story and he said, ‘But now you have a book that says: To Cindy.’ I explained, ‘But that’s the beauty of it. It’s a great story and so funny. I have this autographed book and a really funny story.’ He finally saw the humor. I asked him if he thought I should have corrected the guy. He said no it would have embarrassed him.

The whole incident explains a lot. Often, when I am out and about people come up to me and start talking like they know me. Most of the time I have no freaking idea what they are talking about but I go with it. I’m always afraid it is someone I’ve met and just don’t remember. I have that memory thing going on, you know. So I’ve gotten really good at smiling and nodding and going with the flow until the painful conversation ends. Maybe people think I am Cindy. Perhaps by the time they realize their error it is just too darned awkward to correct their mistake.

But WOW. I have a twin named Cindy. We look so much alike that even our relatives are fooled. Maybe there is something my mother isn’t telling me……….

Update: I told my friend That'sSoS about the incident. I told her when she published her book I wanted her to sign my copy to Cindy. She said no, she would sign Cindy's copy to Rene. TSS is all about the balance. I'm all about the comedy.

Talk Like A Pirate

My friend, ImTheXFactor, had a birthday yesterday. But yesterday was a crazy day with a pending deadline, my nutbag family stressing me out, missing my daily overdose of Hinder, a wedding shower luncheon, important decisions like whether to change my hair color and well… taking a 4 hour nap. As a result, I didn’t get the note out to ITXF before midnight.

And then I slept some more. So it was late this morning before I got around to sending him birthday greetings.

He was surprised to hear from me and asked how I remembered it was his birthday. I told him it was hard to forget someone who was born on ‘Talk Like a Pirate Day’. He sent a note back that said, ‘True! I wish I were a pirate. Guess I was born at the wrong time.’

I texted back: You would really rock the eye patch.

His response: Plus I love rum, wenches, and booty.

Now you see why we’re friends?