Three Olives and Tonic-mighty nice! oh, with orange juice-fresh squeezed. Mick wouldn’t let us take his picture. so here’s Kayla.
It really irks me to have to be somewhere exactly, to the minute, on time. My father deeply and irreversibly instilled punctuality in me but c’mon, what difference does a minute here or there really make when on average we will live for 40471200 minutes. What does a minute or two, or even 15 really matter in the big picture. And believe me, it’s not the concept of punctuality that irks me as much as the f—–g looney bin of a person who really gives a crap about it. Why do those types waste precious minutes worrying if I am on time or not if they are so concerned about every minute. I mean get a life, let’s be real. Think of all of the variables involved in getting to any given place at any given time. I remember living downtown and having to fight my way to midtown on the subway with my fellow red friend, Karen, and being reprimanded for being 5 minutes late. And whose clock are we late on anyway. The high and mighty atomic clock? At my job now I always reset my computer time to match the high and mighty atomic clock but to no avail, my computer has a mind of its own. And who died and left the high and mighty atomic clock king? All I know is that I refuse to waste anymore of my precious 40471200 minutes worrying about it anymore!! http://www.time.gov/
Ok, so this is a tangled web of a story, so I am going to start in the middle. Doc W asked what was up with my scarf as it was hanging strangely over my desk and chair. I told her it was a long story…… Now back to the beginning:
When I was first married and living in Queens and supporting Boneh through grad school, all on $10,400 per year, we took a walk one day down Grand Ave. We got pizza while we listened to Flock of Seagulls (I Ran So Far Away was the title) on the pizza parlors radio. (good times) I know, I know, too much detail but it’s just one of those insignificant memories that I have and thought that- that in itself might just make it significant. So anyway we are walking back home and I see this cute little plant in the green grocer and just have to have it. I remember it was 8 bucks and it was definitely a concern to spend that type of money!!! But we did and it grew. And we moved it from apartment to apartment, all over Greenwich Village and then out to LI. Ya know, a lot of other stuff was going on and I didn’t pay much attention to that plant, and yet it grew more. When the plant was about 20 years old something strange happened to that plant. (yes, I will get to the point, be patient) You see we had moved again and the plant was just gangly and kind of in the way. (Old and in the Way-for those of you that get the reference) We had moved the unsightly plant to a back room where no one would see it. One night, kinda late , we came home from vacation and as we entered the house we were almost overcome with the smell of flowers so strong that I just knew that it had to be the presence of my dead grandmother come to visit me. (you may ask how I came to that conclusion, but the more you get to know of me, it all makes sense in a way, sort of) Anyway, Man, I knew there was an after life and here was my evidence. (LTM-laughing to myself) We got busy with putting the kids in place and unpacking but still the strong smell was just overwhelming. I pondered while I worked what was it that Gram wanted me to know now. Finally I stumbled into the room where the good old plant was and there it was. A large bloom of dripping sap and flowers at the very tip top of this crazy plant. Now keep in mind, this plant is 20 years old and this is the first time it ever bloomed. Well naturally the plant was immediately moved front and center. We put it in our entry way below a sky light and let it thrive. But it didn’t, it was too far gone to ever look normal and I know that anyone who entered my house was like WTF with the ugly crazy looking 12 foot twig with a few leaves on top was doing there. But I knew why and if you knew me well enough you certainly knew why too. Bottom line, there is no getting rid of this eyesore after all we have been through with it. But a few more years pass and it really looks sad now. I talk to Boneh about maybe it being time for it to go and he just can’t see it. Finally one day the plant looks like this faithful friend has seen its way to the end. The “bark” at the top has weakened and the leaves are flopping over and a bunch have actually fallen off. I feel kinda sad and take this little bunch and put it in my dead mother-in-laws awful vase but since it is my dead mother- in-laws I feel it is only right to use it. Well this f—–g vase just keeps toppling over and making a mess all of the time. But I am Patient (you should be too, I’m almost done) and fantastically the bunch of leaves root!!! I knew it would!! I have cloned the holy sainted dead gramma plant and I am just thrilled!!! Did you figure out why my scarf was wet yet? Yeah, coz of the damn badly designed vase that I felt compelled to use kept tipping over and soaked my scarf-which coincidentally matched my outfit perfectly that day. The End, but no, Boneh said we should put the dead gramma dead plant in storage. SO here it remains in my entry way. Yeah! Oh, also, I do have visuals for this story I just have to figure out how to post them.
so I was in Bing for a valentine get away/visiting my son and I thought maybe I’ll have a nice relaxing jacuzzi next thing I know alarms are going off and I’m just ruining everyone else good time!! I told them…”I did NOT mean to set off the alarm on the jacuzzi” how was I to know they didn’t know how to turn it off. Simply put, the sign said “pull here to reset”. It sure looked like the start button to get the whirlpool whirling. So there I am, in my bathing suit, most uncomfortably holding the knob from the alarm that I accidentally broke off. The staff inform me that no one knows how to turn it off and the only person who does know is the manager but since it was Sunday he was in church and unreachable. So I am still standing there, in my bathing suit, when a maid, in a maid uniform complete with folded down tube socks enters the pool room-a wrench in one hand and a screwdriver in the other and I swear she is at least 75 years old. I must say this was a very funny sight, but she came to the rescue!!! Then finally, a nice relaxing soak with my love!