N'Awlins, NOLA, Chocolate City Here We Come!

ThatManILove and I are trying to get packed and ready for a week of meetings and fun in New Orleans. I’m almost packed. House is clean. Cupboard is packed. Dogs are managed and ready for the housesitter. Laundry is folded and put away. TMIL is going through accounting paperwork.

I’ve moved our flights back three times. Friday to Saturday, Saturday to Sunday, Sunday to later Sunday.

I believe that this household might be experiencing some severe flight delays...ones that can’t be blamed on Crapinental. (And yes, we’re flying Southwest!)

I’ll try and blog from the Chocolate City, but no promises, Cher! Happy trails…until we meet again!

Not The Mommy! Not The Mommy!

On Friday mornings (supposedly) my housecleaners are scheduled to clean my house (supposedly). We were out late last night, so got up early to “straighten” up for the housecleaners. (Don’t laugh – you know you do it, too!)

I left the house to make an 8:20 a.m. appointment. I realized I had forgotten to leave payment, so called and asked ThatManILove to take care of it for me.

TMIL: Janie-girl, where’s the checkbook?
Janie: In my grandmother’s hutch. If it’s not there, it’s in my computer bag in the closet.
TMIL: Okay.

Later on this morning, I was having a quick phone conversation with Jill of JillJillBoBill fame, and ThatManILove calls on my office phone. Here’s how it went down:

TMIL: I have ransacked your bedside table drawers, and I cannot find your checkbook.
Janie: Dude. You wrote the check for me last week, and I’ve not written any more checks. Where did you put the checkbook?
TMIL: I don’t know.
Janie: Did you look in my grandmother’s hutch, or my computer bag?
TMIL: No. I just remember sitting on your side of the bed and writing the check.
Janie: Then you probably got the checkbook out of my computer bag.
TMIL: You’re right! Here it is! Bye!

I can hear Jill laughing on the other phone. By now, I’m freakin’ growling. Immediately, I hear Jill’s husband Rick come into their house, and ask Jill a question. I'm straining my ears to hear.

Rick: “Honey, do you know where I left my shoes?”

Jill answers him, giving him the exact location. I crack up. Jill joins me. I mean, the timing of our husbands.could.not.have.been.better.

Janie: Tell Rick I think he and TMIL may be brothers from a different mother.

And everyone wonders why women age faster than men.

Flower Power Baby

FTD is going to freakin’ hate me for this one. Do you love getting flowers from that one you love?

I do, and yet, I don’t. Gifts, such as flowers, sometimes make me go all weird. Is that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard? Here’s a supposed basis concerning the flowers (supposed because I really don’t know what it’s about. If Freud were alive, he’d probably analyze the hell out of this shit, seriously.

Here's my thinking: Flowers die. They’re cut. They will die, no matter what you do to them, so - if they are given as a representation of love, what then? (See what I mean?) I know,  it's really probably that X does not equal Y. Does that mean the love behind the flowers will die? Make no mistake. I love, love, love flowers...when they are growing. Specifically, when they are growing in the ground. And blooming. My very bestest favorite flower? Birds of Paradise. Unfortunately, it doesn’t grow in West Texas. Maybe that’s my problem.

This weirdness of mine really doesn’t bother ThatManILove. He spoils me rotten, he just makes super sure what gift I want. Before he buys it. And guns/hunts/puppies are always winners.

Y’all think I might have a little control problem?

FlyClear - Get Through Those Security Lines Quick!

When you’re at Denver International, you’d best have all your little duckies in a row and get there plenty of time before boarding. Walking through security there is like walking through a maze.

Did you know that you can Fly Clear? Clear has come to major airports -and you can fly through airport security! For a small annual fee, you can sign up, skip the lines, and get in and out of security in a flash. Last October, I signed up for this service. They do a background check, make sure all your little duckies are in a row, and you're in. I came home, and a couple of days later, I had my Clear security card waiting for me in my mailbox.

I flashed it at ThatManILove. Here’s how it went from there…

TMIL: What did you have to give up to get that?
Janie: What do you mean?
TMIL: Fingerprints? What?
Janie: Oh…ummm…fingerprints. And…umm…pictures of my irises. (His eyebrows go up past his hairline - and that's a ways!) And...ummm... copies of my passport and drivers license. (No. Hell, no. I didn't even tell him I paid for the privilege of giving that stuff away.)
TMIL: Girl. You’re in the system now. Did they put a microchip in your forehead?
Janie: No. God. I didn't even think about that. Shut it, please.

Visions of the end days and "666" flashed before my eyes. How could I have been so stupid?

Months pass.

We go to Denver. ThatManILove grabs a brochure for Clear and reads it. Decides to sign up and get hizownbadself “in the system”. When we go to the airport for our return flight, we get there 3 hours early just to sign up.

Here he is going through “the drill.”

We’re almost through when I pull the plug.

Janie: Just one more thing, honey. They've done your iris pictures, taken good shots of your fingerprints. Now. See this copier? They need an image of your bare butt.
TMIL: What?

I was teasing about that part. But not about the Clear Card. For the record…it took me 7 minutes to get through Denver security with my Clear Card. It took ThatManILove 18 minutes without his.

You go through the Clear line, put your card into the machine, an attendant double checks your i.d. and the card. Then, the uniformed attendant helps you unpack your laptops, etc., puts them in bins, and carries them for you - oh, yes, he does - up to the x-ray machine. All you have to do is follow the attendant. And, yes, if you happen to be wondering what happens next, the attendant politely steps in front of the line, secures a place for you, at the front of the line, making you first in a line of a million people, right at the entrance to the x-ray machine, puts your items on the roller, and steps back, after bidding you a good day.

Nobody gripes that you just major line-jumped, or anything. It almost makes you feel guilty.

Naaaaaaah. It doesn't. Pampered, yes. Guilty, no. And the whole time, ThatManILove is watching, and shaking his head in disbelief. And if ThatManILove wasn't a believer, he by golly is now.

Resveratrol Ultra and Demapril - Ask Carla!

Okay.

I fall for it. You know, the wrinkles ad. The one on the sidebar of Facebook that says “Lose 20 years of Wrinkles”. And I have to click.

You know, if you’ve used Facebook, you’ve seen it. It's on the right sidebar of your screen.
Go ahead. Click on it. You too can “Learn the secret of a mom who combined two products to eliminate her wrinkles for good.”

I check it wherever I am. And I’ve proved it. If I’m at home, the “mom” is named Carla. And she’s from Odessa. Sometimes, she’s from Midland. But she's always named Carla. She has a Dual State residency problem, obviously. BUT she always has 2 kids, is in a great marriage and considers herself a happy person. Oh, yeah. And she’s always 45. I guess that’s the acceptable age to see wrinkles and be sick of them.

If I’m in Denver or Dallas? The “mom” has a different name. But she’s in the same great marriage as Carla, and has the same kids, and is ALSO 45. I bet they have the same husbands, too. Because both of these ladies, amazingly, have a friend (probably married to the same guy!) named Becky that talked them out of plastic surgery and told them to use Resveratrol Ultra and Demapril.

Becky shore gets around. Makes me wonder why she’s not calling me and giving me free samples of this stuff. Carla says: “I was surprised by the results after the first 3 days – but once a week had passed I was totally blown away… I knew I was on to something special.”

I think I am on to something special, too...like a scam -but at least I know how to spell "Barbara Walters", who is listed alongside their ad, presumably to give credence to their product. (They spell it "Barbera Walters". Makes me feel really secure about getting their "free" product.)

This could be a good product and I could be missing out on a wrinkle-free face with my own before and after pictures. Y’all try it and let me know. Okay? (God. I hope it works.)

Post Office Antics - and a Prayer Request

My friend Cheryl just found out she has a brain tumor.

Yesterday, I was at the post office counter, securing an “overflow” mail box to accommodate my massive amounts of mail. The line waiting for service numbers about 30 people. My banker friend Cheryl sidles up to me, and gives me a hug. Then, she turns to my post office clerk. This is how it went down.

Cheryl: Hi, Paul(BTW, those who really know him, like me, call him Johnny)! I have a brain tumor, and I can’t drive. I left my keys at home, can you get my mail out of my box while you're helping Janie?

Johnny: I have to finish helping Janie first.

Johnny finishes with me, goes to get my new box keys, then comes back. Asks Cheryl for her ID.

Cheryl: Oh, I don’t have my ID with me. But Janie can verify I’m who I am.

Janie: She really is Cheryl (last name). She’s a VP at (local firm).

He writes all this down. Asks her for her drivers liscense number. Date of birth. She starts rattling off numbers. I stop them. She must be on some major meds, because I know she knows better.

Janie: Girl, if you give out any more info, all these people that are listening will have all the info to steal your identity. You’d better stop.

Janie, turning back to Johnny: And, Johnny, she really does have a brain tumor.

He looks at us, grinning. It hits me. How many people come in there and say that kind of stuff? Rattle off excuses like that?? I bet quite a few.

Janie: No, really. She does.

Johnny finally decides to believe us. He goes to get her mail. And then I turn to Cheryl, laughing and hugging her.

Janie: How long you gonna ride this brain tumor train, chica?

Cheryl: Oh, about a week. My surgery’s scheduled for Wednesday in Dallas.

We both crack up. I look around, realizing we could be the impetus for a riot. People going postal, as it were. This chick just line-jumped 30 people. I realize the ones that can hear our conversation are smiling – they’ve figured out Cheryl is telling the truth.

So. When you think of Cheryl, laugh – because laughter is super sweet at a time like this.

And Cheryl, her family and I? We covet your prayers.

Five in Five - That Zoie-girl (and Braja update!)

Somebody flung this meme on me, where you're supposed to take your fifth picture from your fifth folder and post it. Here it is.

Ah, yes. The Wonder Pup Zoie, light of our lives, who we lost in an accident in August of last year. In this picture, we had just come in from yet another trip, and had an apple in our bag. We were unpacking, and Miss Zoie found the apple and stole it from the bag. She was such a funny dog, and we miss her tremendously!

Want to play? Go to your pix, and post the fifth picture from your fifth folder. Let me know if you do this and I'll give you some linky love!

UPDATE: Here's who's playing along so far...

Di at The Blue Ridge Gal

Shonda at Texas Red

And here's Joanie's!

2nd UPDATE: Guess who's out of the hospital? Braja !! Click for update!