Worst. Idea. Ever. Of the weekend anyway.

I spent last Saturday night at a South Carolina Dirt Track watching the cars race around a clay mud track over and over and over again. And over and over and over again. That pretty much sums up the suckage that was my Saturday Night, doesn't it? Oh and the only alcohol was Natural Light beer. And the girl next to me was suffering from some weird swelling disease and had a wound on her leg. Yay! Those two things combined to create a situation in which she was continually drinking the above mentioned Natural Light and asking for a napkin to staunch the weird liquid oozing down her leg below the bandaid she had slapped on her injury that I am sure was a knife wound or tatoo gone wrong.

We had to attend because a customer had been inviting my husband and I every week and we dodged it several times over the summer but finally could not say no again. We already felt guilty for using a couple of creative white lies to excuse our lack of attendance at the previous Saturday Night Speedway Smackdowns and true to our Cosmic form our luck ran out, in a big way. Karma Kneivel showed up during the first of many "Hot Laps" and she (the bitch) decided we deserved a spankin' for all those times we bailed on her and the Fastest Dirt Track in the south.

We sat there on those concrete bleachers with the redneck mafia surrounding us for eleventy billion hours. Every race featured a wreck or a stalled car that made the crowd groan and at least one driver raise the occasional half hearted fist but honestly, it was too hot for them to do more than flip each other the bird and shout insults at each other every the the caution light came on, which was every. single. lap. I appear to only be able to write in incredibly long sentences today, for some unexplained reason.

I think that sums up the wasted hours that was the Saturday Evening Dirt Track experience. I was planning on writing 30 more paragraphs describing the tube tops, ten year old's with tattoos and blowsy blond banana clip updos just so you can all live moments with me, but I have to go lie down now.

Why I Freak Out (Or How Not to)

Sometimes when I have too much to do, I do nothing. Then I feel guilty about not doing the eleventy million things I need to do. For work, for my family, for my friends, for my non profit friends, and last of all for myself (Hi Oula from Bliss in NYC, my unwaxed body misses you so.)

I don't have any children (just two hairy dogs) and I know that mom's have way more responsiblity than I do so I should shut up and stop whining. I do have three step children, who live far away and while two are older and can take care of themselves and arrange their visits to see us, the youngest is quite young and we travel to him several times a year. Across the Atlantic, on a 5 day commando raid visit that must to him feel like a whirlwind of fun before he is dropped back into the life he leads every day that involves picking up his dirty underwear (pants where he is from) and playing nicely with other small people.

So, I freak myself out when the travel plans (and cost of them) get out of control and the house starts disappearing under the dust and dogs hair turns into tumbleweed rolling across the floor and there is no bread in the house unless you count the defrosted dinner rolls I took out of the freezer last night so my husband could have some form of toast this morning.

Ok. I feel better for whining and now I am going to make some lists, which make me freak out less. I wish I could figure out a way to make a list in my brain that stays there. Then when I think of something to add to the list, say while I am driving, it would just go the list and live there until I do it. I have heard the the iphone probably has an app for that so i must add to my to do list, research iphone. sigh.

Sunday Slow Down

We are back from a whirlwind of a trip in London, with lots of family time and some museums and wildy overpriced pasties thrown in for good measure.

Whenever we go, my husband gets to pick the meals as he gets homesick for British Food (I know) living in the states. So we had some average chinese food, an overpriced pasty and then I did manage to have the most amazing hamburger near the hotel. More amazing were the onion rings and excuse me now, I have PMS and must go chomp on something, even if it is a table leg drenched in salt.

Not a Blogger, just a Google Reader

I love so many blogs. I read them as fast as the posts pop up on Google Reader, while this place gathers dust bunnies and cobwebs. I wish I could write half as well as any of what I browse through on a daily basis. All I can do it try, right? Oh, and try and remember all the writing stuff I learned at the fancy college back in the 80s. Tangenital thought - How did we survive the 80's without a Super Target?

Speaking of Target, my husband and I are trying to not spend any money unless it is absolutely necessary, in order to completely pay off our credit cards by the end of July. Sadly, some literal cobwebs rather than the above mentioned mental ones caused my wonderful husband to climb atop a 6 foot ladder on Sunday and stretch out with the hoover just a bit too far, causing a catastrophic tumble and a slash on his hand courtesy of the garage door. So. Yeah. Blood. Everywhere. He kindly refrained from bleeding inside the house and then resolutely refused to head to the hospital that night because "I don't need stitches. It has almost stopped bleeding." OMG the blood spatter in the garage looks like Lizzie Borden was hanging out beside the riding mower and between the lawn chairs.

Off to the drugstore then, to spend $65 on first aid supplies to staunch the blood and wrap his hand up like a girl scout trying to get her first health merit badge (I was a girl scout drop out, btw so you can imagine how that turned out). Wait, what? $65? How is it that as soon as I get poised to clear off these godforsaken credit cards, I have to go to Target for one thing (ONE THING!) and I end up spending $100. I did not really NEED that wine rack but it helps corral the many bottles of pinot grigio rolling around in the cupboard so I can more organizedly choose my next beverage to toast falls and spills and bumps and bruises around here. My husband also does not need to know I was browsing the home goods section of target while he was waiting in the car with a paper towel around his partially severed finger. Ugh. Blood is not my thing, pass the pinot!

So, I convinced him to go to the hospital 24 hours later with the dire warning that he would get lockjaw if he did not get a tetanus shot. 4 hours and eleventy billion hospital germs later, he was told he had fractured his finger and chipped part of the finger bone off at the end, but it was too late for stitches and if you had listened to your wife then this would not hurt so much and here is a $1,000 bill for tape and gause and call us in the morning... and he's not listening.....

I have completely lost the thread of where I was going with this, but at least I went somewhere.

Anyway. I am planning on buying two books this month (yes I know what I said up there, shut up) because these two books are at the top of my list of summer must reads!!!! Danny Evans Rage: http://www.amazon.com/Rage-Against-Meshugenah-Takes-Balls/dp/0451227115/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247069304&sr=1-1

and Quinn Cummings Notes: http://www.amazon.com/Notes-Underwire-Adventures-Awkward-Lovely/dp/1401322867/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1247069343&sr=1-1

Love, Love, Love both these blogs and I know that iced beverages of all sorts will be snorted out of my nose as soon as I pick both of these up!

Tipity Tap Tap tipity typy ... Gingerale? Ice Chip? Me?

I am sitting in my mother's hospital room, hanging out as she snoozes away, waiting for yet another test to make sure that there are no rogue gallstones that did not catch their scheduled ride with Glinda Gall Bladder when she made her exit a few weeks ago. It turns out Pandora Pancreas is the bitch in the neighborhood.

I could write a novel on my mom's fight, but it would be from a distant third person perspective. She has fought more battles with cancer and her own health my entire adult life and I was living in NYC and the UK the entire time. Now, I am living close by and we are all trying help out and keep her company as we decide how to get Pandora's nasty attitude under control.

I am learning about pain management and enzymes and potential complications like diabetese and pancreatic cancer although I think she has kicked cancer's ass so many times I doubt there is a cancer cell left within 100 miles of her.

My husband and I are talking about a move back closer to his family, which will take me far away again and I ok with that now, but I know I will miss her and my dad when it happens.

Enough for now, the moving talk gives me hives and has me stealing mom's morphine pills.

Gall Bladder as Red Herring

It turns out my mother's gall bladder was not her main problem. She is back in the hospital after her two daughters basically accused her of latching onto her pain medication and milking it like Amy Winehouse at a house party in Brixton.

Turns out she probably has pancreatitis, which is very painful and really has no easy cure, other than her ass kicking pain pills. Yay daughters of mercy!!! I feel just a tad guilty about trying to wean her off the pills and telling her to man up (not literally, but you know what I mean... "Are you sure you want another shot of morphine, mom? How about an ibuprofin tablet instead?)


So I am back down south to do the daughterly sit by the bedside thing for a while tomorrow.

Will try and post from the hospital. Every time I drive the 2 hours there, I think of what I want to write about it but it all fades away when I get in front of the laptop. Maybe Vista is really a soul sucking idea sucking thought leach???

more later

s

Fun Fridays

No excuse for the lack of posts. This is a quickie to try and get in the habit of writing something more often. All the birth stories this week are so amazing. Almost makes me wish I had kids of my own. Almost, I say, as I fret over the dogs and step kids and the neice and nephews and my wonderful husband of 5 years this week!

Love you honey!

xxxxx