It was nice while it lasted
My three day weekend is nearing its end. I got back home tonight around 5:45, and worked in the house for over an hour before my butt ever hit a chair.
My windshield was covered with love bugs and their vision-blocking innards, so my first task was to squeegie bug guts off the car. After that, I tended to some puppies who were in serious need of some love, and took care of the cat, who was pissed about his empty food bowl. Once the mess makers were satisfied, I had a mess or three to clean up. Specifically, the pile of dishes in the sink, the unidentified sticky substance that has adorned our kitchen floor for the past week, and the mysterious film of funk that covered the counter tops. And the crumbs on the table. It's a miracle we don't have roaches.
Yet.
The visit was nice. I got to see my grandmother, and that's always a pleasure even though it requires me to be in the same room with Aunt C and to breathe in dog piss fumes for the duration of the visit. There's so much ammonia de dog piss in that house it'd probably kill them if they opened a jug of bleach. But there's no need to worry about that ever happening.
My mother had a Beauti Control party on Saturday. Nobody showed up except for me and my sister and one of my sister's penniless friends-- unless you count one of my aunts and a cousin, but they're Beauti Control cult members and were only there to help my mom. This means that I was the only person there who had any money. Believe me, they knew it. I alternated between a cushy recliner and the cold, porcelain throne (more on that in a minute) while my cousin gave me a never-ending string of different things to smear on and then wipe off of my face, hands, and feet.
To be honest, all that "spa" crap kinda bothers me. It doesn't make me feel pampered, and I can't tell that my skin is any more glowing or supple or wrinkle free than it was before, nor do I believe that any of the people who use it have that experience. Call me silly, but I say if a lotion heats up the second you put it on your skin, it's NOT because it contains a rare, skin-friendly derivative of something or other from a tree in the rain forest somewhere. Even if it's called "New Rain" or some such bulls**t. No, I'm thinkin' it's got a bunch of chemicals in it that I can't pronounce, and one of them is gonna give me cancer in twenty years.
Regardless of what the secret ingredient of the warming lotion was, I declined to buy it but still ended up spending more than I wanted to spend for other (non-warming) things that I didn't really absolutely truly desperately have to have. I was especially sensitive to the amount of money I was spending because it came less than 24 hours after I wrote a check to Best Buy for a new laptop.
Here's the best part of the whole makeup selling get-together-- I developed a sudden case of explosive diarrhea THE EXACT MOMENT my cousin and aunt turned into the driveway. Do you recall my earliest blog posts? The ones in which I described to you the inconvenient close-to-everything location of the one and only bathroom in my parents' house, and the undesirable acoustical consequences of said centrally located toilet??
My mother gave me a pill of some sort which stopped my..uh..symptoms. Temporarily, at least. It hit me again just a few minutes ago. I don't know what the deal is. I'm just glad I was symptom-free during the five hour drive home, and I hope that it's over before my first class shows up in the morning. Keeping a classroom of teenagers on task is hard enough to do without holding your butt cheeks clenched the entire time.
Speaking of tomorrow morning, I've got lesson plans to finish.
My windshield was covered with love bugs and their vision-blocking innards, so my first task was to squeegie bug guts off the car. After that, I tended to some puppies who were in serious need of some love, and took care of the cat, who was pissed about his empty food bowl. Once the mess makers were satisfied, I had a mess or three to clean up. Specifically, the pile of dishes in the sink, the unidentified sticky substance that has adorned our kitchen floor for the past week, and the mysterious film of funk that covered the counter tops. And the crumbs on the table. It's a miracle we don't have roaches.
Yet.
The visit was nice. I got to see my grandmother, and that's always a pleasure even though it requires me to be in the same room with Aunt C and to breathe in dog piss fumes for the duration of the visit. There's so much ammonia de dog piss in that house it'd probably kill them if they opened a jug of bleach. But there's no need to worry about that ever happening.
My mother had a Beauti Control party on Saturday. Nobody showed up except for me and my sister and one of my sister's penniless friends-- unless you count one of my aunts and a cousin, but they're Beauti Control cult members and were only there to help my mom. This means that I was the only person there who had any money. Believe me, they knew it. I alternated between a cushy recliner and the cold, porcelain throne (more on that in a minute) while my cousin gave me a never-ending string of different things to smear on and then wipe off of my face, hands, and feet.
To be honest, all that "spa" crap kinda bothers me. It doesn't make me feel pampered, and I can't tell that my skin is any more glowing or supple or wrinkle free than it was before, nor do I believe that any of the people who use it have that experience. Call me silly, but I say if a lotion heats up the second you put it on your skin, it's NOT because it contains a rare, skin-friendly derivative of something or other from a tree in the rain forest somewhere. Even if it's called "New Rain" or some such bulls**t. No, I'm thinkin' it's got a bunch of chemicals in it that I can't pronounce, and one of them is gonna give me cancer in twenty years.
Regardless of what the secret ingredient of the warming lotion was, I declined to buy it but still ended up spending more than I wanted to spend for other (non-warming) things that I didn't really absolutely truly desperately have to have. I was especially sensitive to the amount of money I was spending because it came less than 24 hours after I wrote a check to Best Buy for a new laptop.
Here's the best part of the whole makeup selling get-together-- I developed a sudden case of explosive diarrhea THE EXACT MOMENT my cousin and aunt turned into the driveway. Do you recall my earliest blog posts? The ones in which I described to you the inconvenient close-to-everything location of the one and only bathroom in my parents' house, and the undesirable acoustical consequences of said centrally located toilet??
My mother gave me a pill of some sort which stopped my..uh..symptoms. Temporarily, at least. It hit me again just a few minutes ago. I don't know what the deal is. I'm just glad I was symptom-free during the five hour drive home, and I hope that it's over before my first class shows up in the morning. Keeping a classroom of teenagers on task is hard enough to do without holding your butt cheeks clenched the entire time.
Speaking of tomorrow morning, I've got lesson plans to finish.
Labels: Aunt C, explosive diarrhea, parents
By the time we got to Orange Beach last Monday, my windshield (and the entire front of my vehicle) was covered in the bugs, too. We managed to clean the windshield enough to see out of while we were there, then had to do it again when we got home, because it was the same way going back. I hired a guy to clean the car up, between the bugs and the salt spray from the ocean.
If you ever want to go to the area, it was the perfect time to go, though. We were on the 12th floor of our condo (there were 13 floors), and there were no more than 10 other vehicles in the parking lot. It was so quiet and peaceful. We didn't have to listen to other folks' kids screaming "I wanna go to the beach NOW" at 6 a.m., didn't hear teenager's music booming from the beach, didn't have to wait at restaurants, I could park in front of any store I wanted to visit at the outlet mall. It was great.
Too bad reality had to rear it's ugly head.
Posted by
Anonymous |
6:59 PM
Ahh...the Redneck Riviera! I love it! We used to go to Orange Beach/Gulf Shores but now we go to Perdido Key. It's on the Florida side, and it's a little less crowded. My family goes every year. We used to go in the off season. I like going early in June because it's warm enough to get in the water, but not late enough that it's crowded.
I hear there's a breed of creepy little see-through buttcrack loving fish that are out in full force in June, though.
Not sure if the fambly's going this year or not. My dad is buying a pontoon boat. He says that will be all they do for vacation until it's paid off.
Posted by
Mommy Needs a Xanax |
10:14 PM
We stayed "across the bridge" one year - at a place called Regency Isle. It was NICE, but expensive. We first started going when my girl child was around five years old - stayed at the Lighthouse in Gulf Shores, when there actually WAS a lighthouse there. All that is gone now, and they've built a MONSTROUS building in it's place. We've gradually migrated eastward over the years. They've built some big "resort area" called The Wharf back on Canal Road. Has big condo's, expensive shops, a movie theater, brick walkways, even a ferris wheel. If I'm gonna spend that much money, I want to be looking at the ocean, not the canal. I went to Destin last spring, but I just feel more 'at home' in Orange Beach. After twenty years of going, it just feels comfortable. Or, comforting. You know us old dogs.
Posted by
Anonymous |
7:37 PM