Open Mouth, Insert Foot -- Discrimination 101

In case you haven't figured it out by this time, I can be a bit feisty at times. Well, mouthy, really. Actually, both feisty and mouthy now that I'm thinking about it. In my defense, I have learned to let many things go in my old age -- or else just ignore them while I point fingers at the offender and laugh at them under my breath. But there are occasionally situations that grab hold of me like a whore roping her trick down to the bed. And this morning was one of those times. Unfortunately, it was early ..... about 6:30am. And, even more unfortunately, it was a bit of a row with an FAA Aviation Safety Inspector. Isn't that nice?

An official of the federal government arrived to do a check ride of our pilots which is quite routine and not unusual at all. Typically they aren't even really "working" but, many times, just need a ride back home or their vacation destination so they use the opportunity as an excuse to get in a check ride for the pilots. That's our government at its finest. So, I'm the First Class flight attendant, standing at the forward door, saying HI and all of that. And I'm just overhearing the conversation between the pilots and the FAA dude. "Do you live in L.A.?," the pilot asks. "No, anybody who wants to be anyone doesn't live in L.A.....I live in Orange County," the FAA guy says. I think I spit up a little. Orange County is rumored to be the most Republican county in the U.S. And then Mr. FAA goes on about having been "Up here in Oregon where all of the tree huggers are....." Oh boy. What a giant intelligence base we have going here, I'm thinking. But, unknown to me, the crowning glory of them all is about to happen ----

Our "C" flight attendant (works in the galley at the back of the aircraft) comes all of the way forward to introduce herself to the pilots. She's been at the job a little longer than I have an is a beautiful Vietnamese woman. She goes into the flight deck and I can overhear them doing their required preflight checklist. And it is routine that we do not interrupt this checklist...if they are in the middle of it, we wait for them to finish. Instead of wait, however, she just turned around and headed toward the back of the aircraft again. And then I hear the pilot say, "I wonder why she didn't wait for us to finish....." And, then, it happened.....The FAA dude opens his mouth and inserts his foot about as far as he could....He responds to the pilots by saying:

"I Think It's An Oriental Thing"

Pardon me? Excuse me? An Oriental thing?? What did I just hear from this arrogant man? And I lost all self control. I looked at him and asked what he had just said. I let him have it with both guns. I told him that I really had no control over what he did on his own time and at his own workplace....but how dare he come into our workplace and make inappropriate ethnic slurs about one of my coworkers. And I asked him if he knew that it was the year 2009....and that maybe he'd like to bring himself into the 21st century. I asked him if he'd make the same comment if she had been standing right there in front of him. He said he would! Ugh. This guy was a total dweeb. A world-class asshole. I told him I wanted his supervisor's name and phone number....which I now have. And then, it was time to go. I shut him up there with the pilots. I was so mad I could have spit.

The flight progressed in spite of the fact that he now didn't want the nice hot breakfast I was prepared to serve him. "No, thank you," he tells me all of a sudden.

It may be that I overreacted. My mouth gets going sometimes and I just can't quit it. But I just have no tolerance for discrimination or those who choose to take advantage of anyone because of which country they are from, the color of their skin, the church they go to, who they have chosen to sleep with, or a full list of other things. You can say a lot of things to me and I'll just think you're silly. But start in with the off-the-cuff grade school crap and you'll hear from me. I will always try to stand up for those who need to be stood up for.

By the way, I called my supervisor this afternoon and confessed my severe case of diarrhea mouth. She understands completely, believe me.

My Family

One of our favorite things to do on Saturday evenings is to watch British Comedies on our local PBS channel. We've done it for years. One of them is My Family. It's a totally disjointed, wild family. And that reminds me of my own. Easily. You see, we grew up in a conservative, quiet, what I thought was "normal" family in southwest Idaho during the 1960s-1980s. We went to church, had tons of family gatherings, and were what I'd call a fairly close-knit family unit. But it has occurred to me throughout the years as I've aged that we had our fair share of fruitcakes in the family (me being just one of the many):

*At least one gay.
*Someone involved in the pornographic industry (I think).
*Many divorced couples.
*Numerous children out of wedlock.
*Catholics marrying Protestants.
*Yankees marrying Southerners.
*More than a few living together while not being married.
*Several with mental illness.
*Lots of drug users.
*An arsonist.
*More than our share of alcoholics.
*Gay haters -- well, they don't like us very well.
*Some did time in jail.
*Power of Pride stickers on cars.
*N.R.A. stickers on cars.
*H.R.C. stickers on cars.
*Gun toters.
*African-American lineage.
*Native American Indian lineage.
*Folks having sex with other family members.
*And even someone who participated in several armed robberies.

Yeah, it's basically just been another typical American family. Full of fun and games. I think we were a little more screwed up than I'd always thought growing up.

Show Off Your Undies, Bea Arthur

What a fine day for men around the world, who don't even know each other, to show off their underwear. A strange group, we are. But we do have fun....so there!

I've got three days to myself and I am at a loss for what to do first. I seldom have such a span of time. But I do wish hubby felt better...his springtime allergies and asthma have kicked his lungs something terrible.

I miss Bea Arthur already. We had the opportunity to see her One Woman Show three years back....only a few months before she stopped touring. What a night. What a woman! And there is no more fitting scene to leave us all with than this one -------

"Honey, I'm Gonna Hovah"

I'm now finished with day five out of six in my workweek....tomorrow is my Friday in spite of it being Sunday on the earthly calendar that most of us use. Here's what my 11,319 mile workweek looks like. I run into all sorts of tawdry folks in my journeys. Mostly happy, not all. Many travel for business, quite a few for pleasure. Some are more than self-sufficient, a few need a helping hand or two. And that brings me to yesterday, SAN-PDX, the last leg of a long, busy trip. A lovely African-American woman in her 80's is the last one to be wheeled in her chair down to the aircraft door. Nice big smile and a gleam in her eyes. Her blind eyes, I soon found out. She couldn't see. I met her at the door with some sort of a smart ass comment...per the usual. The flight was full as I helped her to her seat -- 6C, the first row of coach just behind First Class. But she was concerned. "They usually let me sit up with the pilots," she said. "Sometimes they even let me fly the plane," she continued. I play the game well so I went along with it as I shuffled with her down the aisle. "Honey, I don't think this is the right direction to sit with the pilots," she insisted. "No," I told her, "I've got a lovely leather seat for you....it's much more comfortable." So, we get her seated and give her a special briefing given to "anyone unable to reach an aircraft by themselves in the event of an evacuation."

The flight was busy with lots of special requests, "Can I have's......" and such. About three-quarters of the way through the flight the lady next to her signals to me that she needs to use the washroom. So, I start through the process of getting her out of the seat. It's quite an ordeal when you're in your 80's, you know. She's sporting a lovely winter scarf around her neck with "Obama" written about a hundred times on it. So, of course, I had to ask loudly (so that the entire next five rows could hear me) who she supported for president. I love stirring up the pot. She's got a hold of my two arms and we're doing a very slow shuffle forward to the First Class lavatory. About the time we're in the center of First Class, she asks me my name.....I tell her. She wants to know how to spell it. I tell her it's _____, just like Arnold Schwarzenegger -- "And, I must say, I do bear a striking resemblance to Arnold," I tell her. (Remember she can't actually see me.) Well, it's at this point that all twelve of my First Class frequent travelers break out into giggles and smiles. I still can't believe they couldn't see the similarities between Arnold and me.

I get her to the lavatory door. And, you see, we're not required to actually help with the "bathroom process," if you get my point. We only help folks to and from the lavatory, that's all. "But," she exclaims, "I'm gonna need help inside....who is going to help me?" Um, well, what am I going to do now.....tell her that I'm not required to help her? So, I call one of my co-workers from the coach cabin from her duties on the beverage cart. Christy helps me out and says she'd be glad to assist. So, I'm trying to make sure that my First Class folks are all fed and watered before I scamper back to coach to work on the cart while Christy is with our little lady. But just as I'm squeezing past them, I hear a bit of a continued conversation. "Okay, I've got your pants down now....all you have to do is sit straight down onto the toilet," Christy says to the lady. "Oh Honey," the lady says, "I ain't gonna sit, I'm gonna Hovah!" I'm still laughing. All in a day's work. And to think, she wanted to help the pilots fly the plane.

Summer Heat -- One More Thing to Make Me Irritated

You certainly remember my short list of things that annoy me, don't you?? I've got another thing to add to the list. And no doubt you've heard of Seasonal Affective Disorder...right? The disorder that lends some people to depression and no energy during the winter months? Well, I don't want anybody to hate me or call me names, but I think I may have some sort of a summer version of it. There is such a thing, you know. I have never really thought about it too much. Weather just isn't something I wake up thinking about every single morning of my life. And I've never complained about rain or gray skies. In fact, I sort of like them..... And, don't get me wrong, I'd never beg for snow day after day all winter long..... but the summer..... I'm not quite sure what to make of it. You'd think that by this time in one's life, you'd have it all figured out.....but apparently not.

I've found myself actually irritated, agitated, when it gets sunny out. I mean, I like it and all....the sunshine. But I definitely don't like the heat of summer. Sun = Good. Heat = Bad. It's weird because so many folks, especially in places like Portland where it rains much of the winter, would slap the doo-doo out of me for complaining about nice weather. I love summer morning and nights...but afternoons, and the heat that comes with them, have always been my least favorite time of the day. I was at the beach today (yes, THAT beach) and enjoying it. But it wasn't long before I found myself wishing I were under a tree in the shade instead. I get irritated by bad drivers and silly people doing stupid things. I don't like to sweat. I can't stand being hot. I always need some good cool air flow. The air conditioner and I are tight. I think my favorite seasons are spring and fall, then winter, then summer....last.

Go ahead, hate me. Tell me I'm off my rocker. Make fun of me. It'll just irritate me more.

The "I" In "We" -- Where Is It?

I have been the "I" in "We" for many years now. And, don't get me wrong at all, I love my life. I love my husband. I love what we have created together and experience together. And, no, we're not thinking of splitting up or any of that -- so stop trying to read things into something that isn't there. We're all good now, right?? So, that being solid and out of the way, I'm kind of wondering where the "I" went. I don't think I'm totally alone in my feelings, either. Although I may be nearly alone in talking about it openly...except for my buddy who talked about it here at great length. I sort of feel sometimes like I don't have a life to myself much any longer. And I suppose that's normal and sort of what happens over time. I know that when any two couples get together they begin to formulate the "we." The couple. The two of them. And parts of each of them eventually go away as they migrate into one another. Or at least become muted or put on the back burner. Needs, wants, desires, likes, dislikes all tend to not count for as much as they used to. The couple comes first. The communal relationship comes first. Then the individual. It's weird, if you ask me. Not bad, or right or wrong, just sort of twisted how it happens. Over time. Gradually. Sometimes even out of necessity for one reason or another -- be in physical, emotional, mental, whatever. And many times because of dysfunction, mental or physical limits, or requirements placed upon us by our society, church, family, or another outside influence. And I'm not referring exclusively to same-sex relationships....I believe that all people, all genders, face many of the same issues.


I married into a family that knows everything about each other on a daily basis. They know when each other works, when they are going to the grocery store, who has a doctor's appointment, when each other is at work, when they are coming home, what plans are coming up, if a regular bowel movement was had that morning, etc. And, I must easily admit, I'm not fond of such a plan. Alas, they many times know when I work, where I'm going, when I'll be home, etc., I don't always like it very well. I like anonymity. I like not being totally connected to every single person I know....whether in person, by phone, by email, or otherwise. I like free time. I love alone time. In fact, I require it. My inner free spirit longs to jump ship! So it will come as no surprise that I don't like voice mails that say, "I know you're back in town and just wondering what you're doing and when you're going to the grocery store next." I typically ignore them. It's become my typical M.O. My extended family knows my friends and I know theirs. They come to parties of my extended friends. I have very few friends to myself. My family even used to go to church together. And that really bugged me.....I'm just saying. They somehow integrate themselves into my life, my blog, my home, my parties, my plans. And as much as I appreciate them, I don't like having every single part of my life knowing exactly what any other given piece is doing. Sounds like I have my cranky on, doesn't it? And I have over the years, believe me. I've lashed out, become horribly angry, demanded free time and alone time. Like I already said, I need it, I require it. And I rarely get it. My hubby works from home much of his work week -- so if I'm home, so is he. And we spent the first seven years of our life working together -- work, play, layovers, vacations, weekends and home....it was all together. I didn't really complain much. But as I've aged, I've changed. And I've begun to complain. Sometimes quite loudly. I have discovered that there are other dimensions to each of our lives that often go undiscovered or even avoided because "I" takes second stage to "we." I've discovered that I don't like blending into everyone else. I like me. Myself. And I. And there's not much of I left, quite frankly. If someone calls for Lewis, they typically call for "Lewis and Blair." Not just one of us. Much of our mail comes to both of us. Rarely (never??) is just one of us invited to a party or dinner or gathering. It's always both. I have no friends of my very own that I've discovered in and of myself and remain my own. Even this blog has become communal. Those who read my blog, typically read his....and the other way around. My friends have become others friends and likewise. It was only a few months ago that I took my very own vacation, by myself, alone. It was weird, I must say...but, at the same time, I loved it. Somewhere along the line, I've gone missing in action.

Now, I know that I sound like I'm grasping at straws here....and in some ways, I am. I love my husband dearly. And I will do whatever is necessary to make his life as easy as I can. It's not about a lack of love or any of those little games. It's simple: About losing me in a sea of we. I have found myself doing things to try and actually craft time alone. And then, when I have a few hours alone, I have so many things that I want to do, I don't do any of them....I'm overwhelmed. I should go to the gym, yoga, downstairs for coffee alone. But there are friends who want to have coffee with me. Maybe go to the beach. Or to the store just to wander without a shopping list. Or to the Japanese Garden for a morning of solace. Or friends or family who want me to go here or there with them. Or go to the gym with them. Or plan a vacation with them. And the phone rings....checking in on me. And a text message arrives. Or or or or or or ---------. It's better today than it used to be, I'm starting to get it ironed out, but it's been exhausting in the past. Tiring. Icky. Not pretty. And if I were to tell you precisely what it is that I want to change, I may even struggle to put it down in writing. I just want a few more friends of my own, just my own. A few days, and evenings, by myself. To go have a drink in a bar...by myself....sitting at the end of the counter, listening to other's conversations. Taking it all in. To have time at home without commitment or obligation or a schedule. To see a movie without knowing that I have to go home at a certain hour or report in. Am I wrong? Am I a bad husband?

My honey (and, yes, I definitely do mean honey!) and I are a bit different in that respect. He needs less alone time than I do. But he's done a nice job of taking his alone time and learning to listen. To his heart, his life, his plans. He hasn't always liked it too well but he's learning to be alone. I think even he has hidden behind me sometimes. But he's such a valuable player in this relationship. He is more than able to stand by himself with his head held high. He has begun to develop the ability to say, "No" to requests that are not necessary. He knows what it means to protect me and my time. He knows that I don't like him telling anyone where I am or when I'll be home. And, I must easily admit, that he's the best husband in the world. We've both grown and changed in beautiful ways through our years together. You wouldn't believe the experiences we've been able to share together. And neither our time alone, nor our time together, takes away from the total beautiful conglomerate that has become our life.

As I've approached middle age, I have this vision from time to time of what the second half of my life may look like. I know, for sure, that I am with the best man anyone could ever ask for. That's a given. But I also know that I want my life speckled with new friends of just my own, time of my own, vacations of my own, explorations of my own. And it's a good thing, not a bad thing. It adds dimension to one's life and allows one to expand well beyond the closed-in four walls that many of us exist in. Some enjoy the sheltered life inside....but not me. I want to have my hands in as many things as I can before my time is over here. Some of that time is shared time. Other bits of it are private time. But it all adds up to this thing we call life. I want to be there for my honey whenever he needs me....and I have no doubt that he's there for me 100% of the time.

Warm Weekend for Showing Off Your Willie

I can't believe it...it's the second warm weekend in Portland so far this year. And we have taken full advantage. We had our neighbor over last night for grilled teriyaki/BBQ chicken complete with a vast array of grilled veggies -- asparagus, red pepper, radish, carrot, oranges. Reeeeaaallly yummy stuff. We finished with hubby diddling the keys of the piano while said neighbor sang at the top of her lungs..... I swear, it does feel good to just let it all out, even as adults.

I got up extra early today and made it to 8am yoga. Then, we found ourselves walking along 23rd Avenue in Northwest Portland with the pooch and stopping by Elephant's Deli for a to-go lunch to take with us up to Washington Park. I shot a few undie pics in the park (did you know that public nudity is relatively tolerated in the city of Portland???) and took a nap with the pooch while hubby read. The city is totally alive this weekend -- people, dogs, families, bicycles, walkers.....everywhere.

On Monday, I may try and make my second trip of the season out to one of our two nude beaches -- Collins Beach on Sauvie Island which rests beautifully along the Columbia River. And don't forget that today is Monday.....perhaps I should say Undie Monday. Check it out! Tuesday begins six days of work in a row....and that's a lot for an old dude like me.

Anything Is Possible

UPDATE: Don't miss this article from the U.K. on Susan Boyle....I love the alternative spin on her.

Anybody feeling a little down? Perhaps like your life isn't quite all that it could, or should, be? Maybe that you've been dealt a hand of cards that you don't like or maybe feels unfair? Or that, possibly, your life is past it's prime? Maybe that it's over half past behind you? Maybe you've made poor calls or had bad judgment. Who cares. Hold your head high, my friends. Check it out, my dears. Anything is possible.

Guess Which Two......

Guess which two people are going to LGB together today. We worked together, nearly entirely, for the first seven years of our life together. But as of late we haven't. So, today is special. And we're looking forward to it. He (the boss) on one side of the beverage cart. Me (the subservient wallflower) on the other. Auntie Melanie is going to stop by and check on the pooch while we're gone. We leave home at noon and will be back in the door close to 8pm. Happy Days, Kids!

Crusted Pork Tenderloin Atop Parmesan Polenta Pillows

Oh yeah baby, we're cooking here. In honor of tonight's American Idol throw down, I crafted my own Crusted Pork Tenderloin Atop Parmesan Polenta Pillows with delicious veggies on the side. We do like to celebrate! And here's how it went down:

Bought a ready-to-roll Hormel pork tenderloin. Sliced it on the cutting board in 1/2 inch thick slices. Tossed the slices into a one-gallon-sized clear plastic bag with crushed corn chips, lots of fresh cracked black pepper, garlic powder, and a bit of salt. Press the corn chip mixture into the slices. Put the slices into a hot skillet with oil. Cook both sides until browned deeply. Transfer the slices to a 13x9 baking dish sprayed with cooking spray and the bottom of the dish lined completely with plenty of sliced onion and drizzled with olive oil (the meat goes on top of the onions). Scatter the remaining corn chip mixture over the meat and cover the dish. Bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes or so and then lower the temperature to 300 degrees for another 30 minutes or so until the meat is nice and tender and the onions just beginning to brown.

While the meat is cooking, cook one cup of polenta with four cups water in saucepan....follow directions on package. My polenta recipe said 25 minutes -- however, my polenta was done in ten minutes....so be careful. Whisk in a tablespoon or two of orange juice and another of milk and a bit of butter/margarine at the end of the cooking.

When the meat has cooked on 350 for 40 minutes, pick your choice of veggies (we used whole fresh green beans and large chunks of sweet red pepper) and put in a second baking dish with a small amount of water to steam the veggies. Put the dish in the oven with the meat dish for the remaining 30 minutes at 300 degrees.

When the meat and veggies are done in the oven, place approximately 3/4 cup polenta right in the middle of your plate and top with shaved Parmesan cheese. Place two slices of meat/onions right square on the top of the polenta and cheese. Our green beans were placed on one side of the plate while the red peppers went on the opposite side.

It can't be beat -- even for this nearly veggie guy. For a picture and review by the world's foremost authority on this creation, visit Blair's Corner.

Birthday Boy and Monday Roundup

Wow, it's been a busy week for me......and this old goat just ain't used to that. I worked this trip which kept me on completely full flights except for one for five solid days -- 13 flights, 10,392 miles since Wednesday -- my arms are sore from the flying.

Today is my honey's 45th birthday.....yes, a younger man -- cradle robber that I am (just so they're over 18...). As some of you know, he is quite the man....quick with a smile, a warm heart for people, and (seriously and truthfully) one of the nicest men you'll ever want to meet. He puts me to shame....I always tell him that he makes me look good. I woke up in the night and found the middle of his back. I let my hand rest there, quietly and gently. And a few words came to my sleepy mind for him: Peace, gentleness, health, happiness. I hope they're all his today, tomorrow....forever. I love you....and can hardly wait for you to get home so that I can whack your ass 45 times.

I witnessed an accident in front of the San Francisco International Airport last Thursday in the middle of one of my trips. We were waiting for the hotel van to pick us up and happened to remark to each other how fast the cars were driving by....way over the speed limit for as many pedestrians, luggage, and traffic there are. And, wouldn't you know it, we were staring at a crosswalk when a dude going way too fast hit an elderly Asian man in the crosswalk. He went flying through the air and landed on his side. I ran over to him....knowing he could very well be dead. He wasn't. In fact, he jumped up and brushed himself off. His wife was with him and stunned. The guy was out of his car immediately and very apologetic....but I let him have it. I was so mad I couldn't see straight. I took his picture and a picture of his license plate. Long story short, the man was bruised and bleeding and I think he'll be okay. I spoke with his wife yesterday. And the SFO Police Department has called me for a statement. I keep on thinking how we could have, literally, witnessed a death that day. And as I told the driver, "Think how your life would have changed today if you had killed this man." You just never know from moment to moment, kids.

As usual, today is Undie Monday over at Idolize and Adore Me (oops, I mean Idle Eyes and a Dormy). It's a fine tribute to stimulus packages everywhere in these troubling economic times. You won't want to miss it. Today is a workout at the gym and yoga and birthday dinner with my sweetie tonight after his return from his workday in Seattle.

Misunderstood

Yes, it's true. I have that horribly dry, sometimes indiscernible, sense of humor about me that occasionally leads me down the wrong trail. I have been misunderstood more than once in my life. I've had to explain myself when someone took me far too seriously. More than once, I've caught someone looking at me....watching, wondering. And I know the look well. They are trying to figure me out. Trying to figure out if this guy is for real or not. In fact, I've been told that if I were ever to lose my voice and be unable to communicate with my voice, that there would be no problem knowing exactly what I'm thinking because of the looks on my face. I mean, if I hear something stupid or silly, you'll know it because I'm going to be looking at your like you've just made, well, a very silly or stupid comment. I've had friends call or email me and say, "I know you probably didn't mean anything by it but....." And I've had to say, "I'm sorry for the confusion." I've even been put in the not so comfortable place of having to answer to friends for silly actions or comments by myself. I hate those times. And I wish they'd never happen. You see, my mouth gets into gear and can't quit sometimes. My energy or emotion will take over and, before you know it, I've done something I wish I hadn't. I joke, and people don't get it. Or I'm honest, and they are offended. I'm a complicated guy, I guess. Or flirting. Oh boy. Flirting. I'm amazed how many guys will flirt but get totally discombobulated if it goes to heavy flirting (sort of like heavy petting but without the pet part). They just can't deal with it. And yes, I'm a flirter. With nearly everyone. But it's led me into the Cafe of Trouble more than once. People just don't know when to think I'm serious and when I'm not. Thankfully, there are more than a few folks who do love me for who I am and even a few that totally get off on my humor and weak attempts at being funny.

So, do I stop being myself....being who I really am? Because that's going to not be a pretty day, my little Easter lambs. I mean, I spent more than half of my glorious life in a dark closet being ultra careful and uber aware of every single word and movement that I made -- and I ain't goin' back. Maybe I should have a custom t-shirt or big button made that I can wear to warn people what smart ass I am and that I may very well be misunderstood and mistreated just like Jon Secada.

My Exciting Life -- Curbside

Waiting For My Dinner Date in SFO

Caught Waiting for the Donkey Dick

Anybody familiar with this little piece of equipment? If you do tricep workouts, you probably are. This rope attaches to the pull and then you work the hell out of your little baby triceps....oh wait, that's MY little baby triceps. There are usually two of these little ropey things that can be moved around from equipment to equipment. Sometimes you have to look around for them. But lately there is only of them....so, you have to wait. Like I was doing today. Plus, I don't really mind waiting for a short while. It gives me the chance to observe, to see what exercises someone else is doing, to cruise. But today, apparently, I was watching for a little too long. I'm waiting, watching, and this guy comes over to where I'm standing, removes his earplugs, and says, "Hey, I can't help but notice that you're spending a lot of time watching the guys workout." Oops, caught. But....honestly....it was just an observing moment, for training purposes only, I wanted to retort. So, I went through the short version of there only being one of these tricep rope pulls now and that means waiting. He said, "Well, if you spend any more time watching and waiting, you're going to be there long enough to get one more gray hair." Ouch. But sort of funny. "Yeah," I said, "One more gray hair and one less hair in general right up on top in that bald spot." He giggle and laughed. I did the same. And with that, he went back to his work out and stood only for a moment longer until my tricep-rope-hogger was finally finished. I caught the eye of the dude watching me as I dropped my gym bag, grabbed the donkey dick (that's the unauthorized name for that rope pull), and lowered the amount of weight being lifted from about 150 down to a proper 80 pounds. Apparently, I need to wear sunglasses while working out so that no one notices I'm glancing around at others. Either that or stop glancing.

My Early Easter Baskit

It's pre-Easter Undie Monday...check it out at Idle Eyes and a Dormy to see the latest in Easter baskets. I seem to have migrated from a nearly commando man to a nearly always having my boys covered up man. At least during the winter months. But you have to have an Easter Baskit... right? It's next Sunday. So, while we were out with the gals and pals a few days back, I couldn't help myself. This set reminded me of a cross between Easter colors and a Monet painting. There were several others that I liked. But I seriously have this thing in my head trying to sort out the fact that I don't have the money to buy those expensive things, to the fact that I don't even like wearing them most times, to the fact that I simply have to have a new Undie Monday entry each week, to the fact that ....... Well, you understand, I'm sure. My head gets to spinning with heart-head-truth-wishes-budget all vying for attention. So, I came home with this lovely Easter Baskit....enjoy. And I've got a few Robin's Eggs to put into it.

Itching

Guess what? It's going to be near 70 degrees today and tomorrow. And guess who is itching to get out HERE??

Saint Lewis Crosses The Bridge

It's happened....again. I've met yet another fellow blogger in person. Only this time I was daring enough to have my husband and sister along with me (I don't let them be seen with me in public often). We all had the extreme fortune to have lunch with Wendy from Burning or Building Bridges in the Community? We met at Pastini, one of our favorite Italian haunts...this one at Bridgeport Village south of Portland. As is typical when we meet someone we've never met before, we all sat there waiting for her...pointing to each passerby, wondering, assuming, saying funny (or not so funny) things about each of them. And then it happened: "There She Is!" And it was. The smiling, happy-go-lucky face headed our way. And as is also typical when meeting bloggers for the first time, it was like we'd met a very long time ago -- each of us already knowing much about one another. We laughed, made jokes, giggled and feasted on a delicious lunch. We took Mason with us so we took Wendy out to the car to meet a horribly hyper Mason -- and we shot the pics you'll see below. Not to be outdone, we finished lunch with a trip to Under U 4 Men to ogle over expensive men's underwear -- some of which may very well be featured in an upcoming Undie Monday. We ventured over to Banana Republic after that and each of us purchased a pair of boxers or t-shirt. It was about that time that a beautiful afternoon sun hit our shoulders as we said goodbye in the parking lot. Wendy, the pleasure was all ours. You're a gem -- full of such good energy and inner beauty. Sometime again, I hope. UPDATE: And here's Burning or Building Bridges take on the whole affair.

Annoying

I've had this question posed to me: "Is there anyone that doesn't annoy you?" So far, I haven't added anyone to that list. Here's my short list of what annoys me: Talking during a movie. Stopping right after going out of the grocery store door, or at the bottom of an escalator, with people coming right behind you. Not answering a question directly when asked. Too much noise. Loud music. People not being ready for you when you go and pick them up. Social overload first thing in the morning. Not having quiet time. Silliness and grade school jokes. Doors being allowed to slam instead of being actually closed. Giving someone something and not receiving a thank you note. Trying to accomplish simple tasks (like tooth brushing or getting a drink of water) and people being in my way. Slow drivers who don't have a clue where they are going. Fast/unsafe drivers compromising other's safety. Smokers who are thoughtless. Adult men or women who act like children. People who chew with their mouth's open. Being too hot or too cold. Social over stimulation. Loud, screaming children who are not made to mind in a restaurant or public. Not being greeted by the cashier at the check-out line at the grocery store. People who don't say "please" or "thank you." Those who are on their I-phones or other devices when they are at dinner with me or when we're having a conversation. Those who think they are more important than someone else. Negative people who bitch about their sad lives or horrible jobs or terrible families or or or. Those who don't clean up, or put away things, after themselves. Anyone getting in my way when I'm tired and ready for a nap or sleep. Parking a grocery shopping basket in the middle of an aisle instead of over to the side. People who spend their free time hanging out at the mall with nothing else in the whole wide world to do. Those who don't do what they promised. Flakes. People who create games, drama, and BS. Those who don't bring anything to potlucks when it's advertised as a potluck. People blocking airplane aisles taking their own sweet time putting away carry on bags when there are another hundred people behind them. Noise/partying/doors slamming/music/TV at night when I'm trying to sleep. Smokers who flick cigarette butts out of their car windows and onto the street like it's NOT trash. Alcoholics who ruin not only their own lives but the lives of those around them. Not being ready with a drink/food order when the wait person is standing there, waiting, waiting. Letting your children ruin my meal at a restaurant.

Let me know when you're ready for my long list.

Visit With Sister In Full Swing

Well well well....we had a party so that sister could meet some of our more "appropriate" friends. (We tried to keep the raunchiest friends out of view which is clearly why most of you weren't invited.) We enjoyed a yummy pasta dish that I threw together -- bow tie pasta, kalamata olives, sun dried tomatoes, artichoke hearts, roasted peppers, red chili flakes, chopped garlic, and Parmesan cheese. Combined with the grilled pineapple and veggies and the to-die-for desserts, it was quite the evening. We broke her Ikea virginity today as well -- complete with those disgusting Swedish meatballs that you'd never catch me eating. I hit the gym this afternoon while she stayed home with hubby. Tonight, we're doing the Blue Moose vegetarian restaurant across the street from our place and then heading to the St. John's Pub in North Portland to see Milk. Tomorrow will include Mexican at a favorite little haunt with my mother in law.