Boys' Night...

…yes, I had a Girl’s Slumber Party the weekend before last and haven’t written a word about it, and to be honest I may not, seeing as I haven’t had the blogging spirit of late. It was quite the ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ type of party and I may come around and share or I may decide to crawl back in my proverbial hole.

That aside, this past Saturday was all about the boys. Hmm? My husband is and will be in India for a spell so you may be wondering about this so called ‘Boys’ Night’. Well let me just clear things up for you…

No, I did not cheat. Nor did I go bar hopping or hire a male stripper for my own personal amusement. No, it was nothing like that but I did pull the Cougar Card. Ya know; the whole old lady thing with a younger guy…or two. I totally did THAT!

So now, let me just tell you to pick your minds right back up out of the gutter because when I said it was all about the boys, I meant two eight year olds.

I invited my grandson and Sheila’s son to keep me busy company, and we had so much fun it got me out of my funk and made me want to share.

When they arrived they were on full attack mode because they had overheard that I had a surprise for them. “What’s our surprise?”, “What are we doing?” “What, What, WHAT IS IT?” To which I replied, “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

As soon as the parental unit (read: Shelia, as she was the designated picker upper and dropper offer) was gone, it was ‘on’.

I had a treasure hunt planned for them…

…that had them bouncing back and forth between the rooms in my house with all the clues. One of the rules was that if it was dark in a room they couldn’t turn on a light, but had to use a flashlight (yeah, more fun!). They had a blast doing it, but let me tell you I wish I had the video camera going to show you the two of them reading each clue out loud and their excitement as they figured each one out…totally MasterCard priceless!

They eventually got to their treasure which was a Tech Deck kit each and Jelly Bellies to share. Nothing says non-parental spoiling like various sugar coated sugar! Sorry, I didn’t get a picture right away. Oh, wait, I did. This is what the box looked like five minutes after they opened it.

Hey! They, uh I mean we, were having fun. Were you aware that you could mix different ‘beans’ and come up with new flavors? For instance, Sunkist lemon + coconut = lemon meringue pie; and blueberry + buttered popcorn = blueberry muffin. Who knew? At least there’s a use for the damned buttered popcorn flavored jellybean, because on its own, it’s just nasty.

So the whole treasure hunt and sugar binging lasted about 45 minutes and then? They were bored…wha? So they did what boys do best. They built a fort in my family room.

But then, they were bored again…double wha? And they were hungry. So I packed them up in the back of my SUV and we headed to a craft store for some spray paint and stickers and then hit both Taco Bell and Arby’s. These boys may be like two peas in a pod, but when it came to choosing lunch they couldn’t compromise, so we went to both places. Hey, that’s what Nana’s do!

Anyhoo, once we got back, they ate while I spray-painted two boxes in the garage. If you’re going to give a kid mini skateboards, they need to have their own skate park. Once the boxes were dry, they painted the ramps inside them and decorated with the stickers.

They kept busy and played for quite a bit (surprisingly not on Wii) and were hungry again. At this point I informed them that they were not only making their own dinner, but mine as well; mini pizzas on English muffins. I think they ate more pepperoni and cheese while making them than they actually put on their pizza.

After dinner I had them make a dump cake for dessert; a can of cherry pie filling mixed with a can of crushed pineapple and topped with yellow cake mix, nuts and butter; baked for an hour and topped with whipped cream. One was fine with this…

…and the other opted for popcorn.

No big deal at Nana’s…it was actually a plus as I got to have dump cake AND popcorn!

They watched ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ and then bounced around like Wild Things for a bit.

We then had to reconfigure the fort to make it conducive to sleeping. While I rearranged furniture, pillows and blankets; they made signs.

Notice how the sign originally said ‘No Girls Allowed’, but then they squeezed in ‘or women’? Apparently I don’t qualify as a ‘girl’ anymore. What ever!

They were out by about 10:00…

…which was much earlier than I expected, but that was fine. I was pretty tuckered out myself.

I’d chalk it up as a success. They had fun and I had fun. It filled up my normally void weekend and hopefully gave their ‘rents a break. I look forward to doing it again, but I’ll need to come up with something to top the Treasure Hunt. Any ideas?

I'm Back...

…if only for a little while.

When Paul left for India I honestly thought I’d be a bloggin’ fool. I’d have all this time on my hands to write posts and read posts and yadda-yadda; but it hasn’t quite worked out that way. It’s not like I don’t have the time. Lord knows I have plenty of time; it’s just me and the dog every evening and most weekends. But for whatever reason I’ve dug this hole for myself and don’t want to peek out of it. I didn’t even try a month ago when that damn Punxsutawney Phil took a look see to tell us how long Old Man Winter would be hanging around.

When I’ve tried to analyze why I’m reacting this way all I can compare it to is the whole nesting thing that expectant mothers do in their last trimester…they wait.

So I wait, and my life is on hold while Paul is gone. Sure, I participate in the everyday goings on, but I feel at a loss. No, that’s not true. What I actually feel is lost. And if lost were the ‘cake’, the ‘icing' would be that his 4 – 6 month assignment has now been changed to a year or two.

So there’s this part of me that’s burrowed into a hole, but there’s another that knows I need to get on with it. I know that blogging would help but I just need a swift kick in the ass. Any volunteers?

Fairies and Stuff...

My boss told me last week about how he broke his son’s heart. His ten year old son has been losing quite a few of his baby teeth recently and started doubting his belief in the Tooth Fairy. Upon questioning, my boss admitted that he was in fact, the Tooth Fairy. His son seemed to be okay with this information, but then started to say something about Santa Claus. My boss, figuring that he had probably already been ousted by some of the kids at school, cut him off and decided to fess up.


Boss: “Yeah, you figured it out. I’m Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny too.”

Son: (Devastated) “But dad, I was just going to say how I know that Santa is real.”


The next day when my boss repeated his story of woe I tried to make light of the situation in an effort to cheer him up. I suggested that when he got home after work he should tell his son that even though Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny weren’t real, there were still things he could believe in…like the Boogie Man under his bed. In fact he’s so real that he’s glad he doesn’t have to sneak a dollar bill under his pillow anymore because even he was afraid to go in his room in the dark!

I don’t think he saw the humor in my comment. In fact, that visit I was expecting from the Raise Fairy has probably been put on hold.

Happy Valentine's Day: Redneck Style...

Yes, it’s a lazy re-post from last year…

“Hey dere lil’ possum, go warsh up ‘n git yer face done did up. I gots big plans fer V-Day en I’s fixin’ ta have us a good time.”


“Now ain’t dis romantical ‘n all? ‘N didja sees how I gots us a table close ta da potty? I nodes how dem Sliders git ya goin’.”


“I kin see y’all be doin’ dat dere girly thang an not orderin’ up some eh dem dere onion rings. I node y’all wants em, so go head. Et’s a darn tootin’ holiday fer Pete’s sake!”



“I reckon’ dis were nearabout da best dang V-Day eva, Luv Muffin. ‘N y’all dint think I could pull it off, didja? ‘N sho ‘nuff it ain’t over yit. We gonna git all snug as a bug in a rug when we git back ta da dubba-wide, cuz I went ‘n rented us one of dem videos. I thinks yer gonna like et. ”


Here’s wishin’ y’all a steamy Valentine’s Day!

My Trip to India...

Part Three: Driving in India…

I mentioned how insane the driving is in India in my last post. You can watch the video I posted when Paul first left for India at the end of this post if you like. Just keep in mind that the video is tame in comparison to the real thing. It’s easily twice as bad on a good day, but I’d multiply it by ten on most days.

First, they do have defined lanes; there are markings on the road. I have seen them. I also saw signs that read, ‘Lane Driving is Safe Driving’. Apparently it is only suggested that you stay in your lane. That being said, the majority of roads we were on had two ‘lanes’, but there were usually anywhere from three to I don’t know how many vehicles across them. And by vehicles, I mean buses, trucks, SUVs, cars, auto rickshaws, bicycle rickshaws, handcarts, motorcycles, scooters, bicycles, pedestrians and cows.

Second, I never saw a speed limit sign. There weren’t many stop lights and even fewer stop signs. Now while everyone is just all over the place trying to pass one another there is much honking of horns. In fact most trucks have the words ‘Horn Please’ painted above their back bumper.


Honk, Honk, HONK! It seems to be the way they let the vehicle in front of them know that they are coming up alongside them. And by alongside them, I mean inches away. See? Right alongside you, uh I mean me…


Not only are there lots of ‘vehicles’ on the road; there are lots of passengers in/on them. I saw auto rickshaws (three-wheeled vehicles at least half the size of a mini van) with as many as ten passengers…


…and motorcycles with whole families. I wasn’t able to get any pictures of this, but believe me it’s true. The man drives with a child in front of him, the wife is on the back with a child on her lap and a third child is in between them. As much as I tried, I wasn’t able to get that shot. I did get this one with just a man and woman. Notice how he is wearing a helmet and she is not…AND she’s riding side-saddle!


Vehicles aside; there are enough pedestrians to fill the street without them.


It is pure chaos and you can either white knuckle your way through it or just go with the flow of traffic.


I came across an article written by Peter Hughes in 1994 in which I have to include the majority of in this post. It is both funny and the way it really is there…and I couldn’t have summed it up as well as he did:

“Traveling in India is an almost hallucinatory potion of sound, spectacle and experience. It is frequently heart-rending, sometimes hilarious, mostly exhilarating; always unforgettable - and, when you are on the roads, extremely dangerous.

To the Westerner, the behavior of drivers seems to cross Space Invaders with a profound belief in reincarnation. There is an explanation for this behavior. Most Indian road users observe a version of the Highway Code based on a Sanskrit text. These 12 rules of the Indian road are published for the first time in English.

Article I
The assumption of immortality is required of all road users.

Article II
Indian traffic, like Indian society, is structured on a strict caste system. The following precedence must be accorded at all times. In descending order, give way to: cows, elephants, heavy trucks, buses, official cars, camels, light trucks, buffalo, Jeeps, ox-carts, private cars, motorcycles, scooters, auto-rickshaws, pigs, pedal rickshaws, goats, bicycles (goods carrying), handcarts, bicycles (passenger carrying), dogs, pedestrians.

Article III
All wheeled vehicles shall be driven in accordance with the maxim: to slow is to falter, to brake is to fail, to stop is defeat. This is the Indian drivers' mantra.

Article IV
Use of horn (also known as the sonic fender or aural amulet): Cars: Short blasts (urgent) indicate supremacy, i.e. in clearing dogs, rickshaws and pedestrians from path. Long blasts (desperate) denote supplication, i.e. to oncoming truck 'I am going too fast to stop, so unless you slow down we shall both die.' In extreme cases this may be accompanied by flashing of headlights (frantic). Single blast (casual) means 'I have seen someone out of India's population of 870 million whom I recognize'; 'There is a bird in the road (which at this speed could go through my windscreen)', or 'I have not blown my horn for several minutes.'
Trucks and buses: All horn signals have the same meaning, viz, 'I have an all-up weight of approximately 12 1/2 tons and have no intention of stopping, even if I could.' This signal may be emphasized by the use of headlamps

Article IV remains subject to the provisions of Order of Precedence in Article II above.

Article V
All maneuvers, use of horn and evasive action shall be left until the last possible moment.

Article VI
In the absence of seat belts (which there is), car occupants shall wear garlands of marigolds. These should be kept fastened at all times.

Article VII
Rights of way: Traffic entering a road from the left has priority. So does traffic from the right, and also traffic in the middle. Lane discipline: All Indian traffic at all times and irrespective of direction of travel shall occupy the centre of the road.

Article VIII
Roundabouts: India has no roundabouts. Apparent traffic islands in the middle of crossroads have no traffic management function. Any other impression should be ignored.

Article IX
Overtaking is mandatory. Every moving vehicle is required to overtake every other moving vehicle, irrespective of whether it has just overtaken you. Overtaking should only be undertaken in suitable locations, such as in the face of oncoming traffic, on blind bends, at junctions and in the middle of villages/city centers. No more than two inches should be allowed between your vehicle and the one you are passing - one inch in the case of bicycles or pedestrians.

Article X
Nirvana may be obtained through the head-on crash.

Article XI
Reversing: no longer applicable since no vehicle in India has reverse gear.

Article XII
The 10th incarnation of God was as an articulated tanker.”


Oh, and the marigold garland referenced in Article VI? We were never offered one from our driver, Dalip.


He did however have Marigolds on his dashboard, along with other religious articles and an incensed scented air freshener.


And because this post is already quite lengthy, why not show you this picture taken from our hotel (at night and NOT during busy daylight hours) to show you what a clusterfuck their traffic really is. You can click on it, if you like, to really see the insanity of it all.

My Trip to India...

Part Two

…..I landed at 9:45 p.m. on Friday, January 22nd, New Delhi time. I was prepared to not only go through Immigration and Customs, but a health check point as well. There is a form you fill out on the plane regarding H1N1 and they normally have you go through a screening to make sure you don’t have a fever, runny nose, etc. I was prepared and took Tylenol and some cold medicine about an hour before landing. Better to be safe than sorry. I mean, who wants to spend their most likely once in a lifetime trip to India under quarantine? I went through immigration and got my passport stamped, breezed through customs as I had nothing to declare and walked out the door. Out the door! No health check and no collection of the two-sided H1N1 form I had completed. The area that was set up for that was empty. I guess those employees had the night off…or they were out with the flu.

I wasn’t able to see much on the ride from the airport to the hotel as it was dark out, but I walked smack dab into major culture shock the next morning. Paul and I saw there was a Ruby Tuesday’s and a McDonalds down the block from the hotel we were staying at. (Paul is working in Navi Mumbai a/k/a New Bombay; so this was his first trip to Delhi as well.) We decided to take a walk and check out what else was nearby. There was an open plaza type of area next to and behind the McDonalds with some shops bordering it; most selling cell phones, computer stuff and ink cartridges. Nothing of interest there; but the people? No, not just the people, but the children. The children we encountered were all barefoot and dressed in dingy, raggedy clothes and very thin; and once they spotted us they started begging. We had no coins on us at the time which we were later told was probably a good thing, because if you give to some, there will be more…and more. I diverted my eyes and kept walking but one little girl followed me until we got through the plaza area and turned on a street before finally giving up. I’d normally throw in some type of joke about Sally Struthers and how you could feed a village of children, for a year, if you threw her in a dice-n- slice and made her into stew, but really? Most Indians are Hindi which equals vegetarian. And honestly; the truth is once you see this poverty up close, it’s not funny, nor should it be made the brunt of a joke; so just scratch that last lame attempt at humor.

The street we ended up on had buildings on one side and a fenced in area on the other. Within that fenced enclosure were tents and shelters made of whatever materials were available. These were homes to people. It was heartbreaking to see but common in India. We were foreigners, and white, and stuck out like a sore thumb, but strangely I wasn’t afraid. I was just shocked. The reality of it was just staring me in the face. It wasn’t a picture in a National Geographic magazine at the doctor’s office anymore.

We decided to get a taxi and go to Priya market, which Ellen had emailed me about. There is a movie theater there, a couple of restaurants and several stores; including two with grocery items (read: beer, soda, snacks, beer, bottled water and beer). We purchased some chips, cashews and diet Pepsi for the hotel room…oh, and beer. A 12 oz. bottle of Corona at the hotel was about $8.00 U.S. We bought a 12 pack of King Fisher (an Indian beer) in 16 oz. cans for the same amount as that one Corona. Our purchases were placed in a box, which someone working there picked up in order to carry to our taxi. We thanked him, but said we could handle it and left. Paul called our driver on his cell to let him know we were ready to leave (It seems like almost everyone in India has a cell phone. I’m not sure if I heard correctly, but I think it cost less than a penny per minute.) On our way back to the hotel we arranged to hire the same driver, whose name was Dalip Singh, for the entire next day at a cost of 800 rupees; which is about $17.00 U.S. When we got back to our hotel, Dalip was ready to carry our box into the hotel. Paul thanked him, but said he could handle it. Once in the hotel lobby, a doorman went to take the box from Paul to bring up to our room. Again, Paul said ‘thank you’, but he could handle it. One small box of grocery items and three offers to carry it; I’d like just one offer at home when I get back from the grocery store.

We ate lunch at Ruby Tuesday’s (the only Americanized food we ate all week with the exception of the complimentary continental breakfast at the hotel and room service one evening) and then I crashed. I took a four hour nap before Paul made me get up. I could have easily slept through the night with the jet lag and all, but I got up and showered and watched some TV. There are a few English language movie channels there, one of them being HBO. And? All of the shows that are normally in English are subtitled…in English. Go figure.

That pretty much sums up my first full day in India. It was fairly uneventful, save that major culture shock during our morning walk. Well, that and the drive to the market. Driving in India is insane, but I’ll save that for another post.

In Which I Embarrass Myself…

…even further.

Badass Geek is having a contest and I am prepared to do what it takes in order to win.

The inspiration for his contest:
The Klondike Bar commercials; as in what would you do for a Klondike Bar?

The prize:
A limited edition ‘Badass Geek’ pin.

The challenge:
Post the “funniest/most awkward or embarrassing/creative/awe-inspiring examples of "What Would You Do?"

“What Would I Do” to win a pin? Well I guess I’ll admit my most embarrassing moment. (Which makes me wonder what I’d do for a million dollars!) This story has only been heard by one person, and one person only, my BFF. It meets four of the five criteria listed above. It is funny now; it was awkward when it happened and it is possibly the most embarrassing moment of my life. After you read this, it will inspire you…I’ll tell you how at the end.

Here goes.

Quite a few years ago when I was dating someone after my divorce, he arrived early to pick me up for a date. I wasn’t ready so I asked him to wait while I took a quick shower and got dressed. I had started the water for my shower but didn’t get in right away. After hearing the water running I guess he thought he would sneak in and surprise me. This wouldn’t have been a big deal because he had already seen me naked, except…Except?

(Oh boy, I better win a damn pin for what I’m about to admit.)

Except I was sitting on the toilet…and I wasn’t just tinkling. Yeah, right in the middle of taking a shit I heard him start to open the door. Panicking, I sprung off that toilet and rushed the door, except…EXCEPT I was in the middle of taking a shit! My shoulder hit the door and the shit? Well it didn’t hit the fan; it hit the floor.

See? Em-bare-ass-ing.

The things one will do for a Klondike Bar Badass Geek pin. I, to this day, do not know if he saw ‘it’. I mean it’s not like I was going to say, “Where are we going to eat, honey? And by the way, did you see me shit on the floor?”


Now after reading this I’m sure you’ll admit that I should win one of those pins. In fact if anyone else has a pin for their blog they should send me one as well!

Oh and the inspiration from this story; Lock the friggin’ bathroom door!