Kool Aid Meets Fine China.

I’ve been M.I.A., I know. I guess because I’ve been busy, but I can’t recall many blog-worthy occurrences. How does that happen? We’re all so busy running around each day, we have to schedule conversations with long-distance friends, book appointments on our lunch breaks and drop off our dry cleaning in sweaty t-shirts straight from the gym. Yet, we can’t recall what we did on Friday. It’s a manic Monday and I’m already wishing it was the weekend.
So, here’s the thing. The most exciting things that have happened to me lately are:

a.) I’ve been trying for weeks to videotape a man who dances savagely while flaunting a $.99 “Sloppy Joe” sign outside this shady, grim-looking restaurant. He’s planted at an intersection where the short light and my driving/videotaping capabilities are no match for his colorful, hip shaking and sign twirling abilities. I am currently strategizing a new line of attack. Stay tuned.

b.) I passed a strip club last week and have questioned my own marketing/advertising talents when I saw how the owner used good ole’ fashion shock tactic. A neon flashing sign declared: “24 Pretty Girls, One Ugly One.” Wow, at 7 a.m. Now that’s a little more fearless than competitors. Admit it. Aren’t you slightly curious as to what the “Ugly” one looks like? Pretty bold. I bet a few “stragglers” will use that as their excuse for entering. Yes, that made my morning.

c.) The past week, I’ve been seeing blue. No, I haven’t been diagnosed with some neurological disorder or become manic-depressive. I hosted a baby shower brunch over the weekend. It was a pretty interesting feat to only purchase blue items leading up until the day. Blue-frosted cupcakes, streamers, confetti and napkins adorned my house. The only blue, non-alcoholic drink I could think of that’s blue was Kool Aid. Maybe not as classy as other mocktails, but an instant classic nonetheless.

I feel honored to be the one to throw the shower and test out our wedding-ware. Especially, since most people claim you only use around 2% of what you end up putting on your registry. I think hosting not only made me feel like I was sharing in my friend’s baby bliss, but for the first time in a long time – I felt like I was hosting a party as an adult. Rarely do I eat a meal at a table. Rather, with a pillow on my lap and a plate on top.  Why? It serves as a hot pad and it closes the gap between lap and mouth. I’ve lost a lot of food to the floor (and dog) thinking otherwise.

More often than not, we use our casual dishes or even palm tree garnished plastic dishes. I guess, you could say, the party forced me to pull out the inner Emily Post my grandmother and aunt instilled in me as a little girl. Funny thing about that. Apparently, she grew up right out  of her Keds and etiquette. Saturday was the day of the party. I woke up with a list of last minute to-dos:

1. Sweep – check.

2. Ice in champagne bucket, casserole in oven – check, check.

3. Set table – I stared at the tangle of reflective steel.

‘Holy crap. How do you set a table?’ I asked my dog, Daisy. She blinked in between a few blank stares. Ugh. I knew I was on my own. I felt a lump in my throat. ‘Has our casual lifestyle taken everything I learned about dining etiquette when I was six and thrown away the key?’ I thought. For the life of me, I could not remember where the fork, knife, spoon or champagne glass went.

Too ashamed to call my mother, I thought– this is why we have the internet. Yep, I had to look up instructions on how to set a table. An hour before the party, the tables were set. I didn’t measure that the top of the plate was two inches from the bottom of the water glass, but I’m fairly certain it was close.

I’m so ecstatic my friend got to have an entire day celebrating her and her baby. Her life is about to change in so many ways I can’t even begin to imagine. The entire day, I sat and listened to current and future Moms talking about their pregnancies and children and saw the sparkle in their eyes as they told their stories. I was worried that I was playing dress up and house all wrong. In the midst of diaper cakes, pastries and baby Bingo – I knew no one was worried about the table settings. The day was focused more on the anticipation of this new family member than anything else and you know something? Hardly any Kool Aid was left.

A Million Wrongs Make Some Rights.

I’m sure you’ve been there. You’re  in the car (hopefully at a light) and you scramble to send a quick text. Maybe you’ve just got exceptionally fat fingers. You get a message back from your friend that reads something like, “What the h***?”

Whatever the reason for our lack of attention to detail, these type-os make conversations much more interesting. Especially when no explanation is given to the person on the other end. If we are moving into an era where hand-written letters and spell-checked emails are minimal then, game on. I pondered whether or not to remove autocorrect from my phone the first million times it “guessed”  my personal viewpoints and tastes.  My hatred turned into hysterics and so I’d like to implement a weekly or monthly (depending on how many submissions we get) posting of the best autocorrects.

Please email your autocorrect(s) and how it was used in a sentence. Put next to the word that was “corrected” the word that was intended and post them below!

To begin, here are my favorites:

1.) “No, nutshell (what autocorrect calls itself) put that.”

2.) “We went to the Japanese storehouse (steakhouse).”

3.) My brother:  “Almond talking about drinking white russians since about nine this morning.”  – I would say almond has a 50/50 chance of being intended in that sentence.

4.) My personal fave. so far: “I miss you and the baroness (randomness) that follows you!”

Bumping Carts and Hearts.

There’s nothing quite like walking around Walmart on Mother’s Day. This year, the withered 2 for $10 flower barrels, the clearanced Easter candy, cutoffs showcasing entirely too much and the smell of suntan lotion were sad reminders of just how much I missed my Mom.

I really hate that place, but I hated it even a little more on Sunday. But – life goes on. Even if that sometimes means, without the people you love around and the people you don’t bumping into your cart. As I grazed through the aisles, I thought about my fabulous, can-do-anything-mother. I thought about how lucky I am to know her. How perfect she is because she can, quite frankly, smack reality into anyone with a devoted hand. Honestly, that kind of honesty is hard to come by.

Think about it. You may have a sprinkle of friends or family in your life that you consider to be good hosts of honesty. Being your strongest emotional sources, they sit quietly on the other line, offering an occasional “Awww” in their sweet tones and allowing you to complain about your darn good life. Your mother, on the other hand, lets you complain and then, promptly reminds you in her own indirect way that you should just do “What you can do. Someone is noticing your hard work.” Whether that someone is her, my boss or God – I’ll never know. But, she probably doesn’t realize that I am often the one leaving our conversations feeling proud of her optimism.

In light of my Walmart shopping cart eventually encumbered with carbohydrates, protein and real “Great Value” all over its insides, I thought about the fact that I’ve been away from home for ten years. TEN years. In that time, I left a kid. A crazy, overzealous, driven, ambitious dreamer. Knowing not a single soul, I went through what I remember of college in a haze of late nights. In the end, I walked away crazier and happier that I accomplished something (sort of) on my own. During the drive up to college with my parents, the only thing I could think about was getting out of their car and making new friends. The second they left, I wished they hadn’t.

And yet – here I am – ten years later in a state that is completely backwards, but has amazing weather that allows you to forget that from time to time. While I still miss home – I am so happy with my life and the fact that my husband is pursuing his dream. Without you, Mom, I probably wouldn’t have tried a lot of things I have because I’d be afraid to fail. You have taught me so many things in life, but the one that resides so clearly – particularly in Walmart – is to never be afraid. You have to at least try. I’m still figuring out exactly why, but I think it has something to do with the fact that as we get older, it’s not the judgment of others we feel we have to answer to – it’s our own. I know me and surely, I do not want to have to answer to that crazy woman. Mom, from one crazy lady to another, I love you.