The Mini Van Soap Box

I'm going to make this short and sweet.

I'm stuck in traffic yesterday on the way home from picking up the kid from school. I'm thinking about the stuff I have to get done before the funeral, what I need to pack, do I have to clean the house before I go, blah blah blah....when I notice the license plate of the car in front of me.

i c gay ppl

I shit you not.

I immediately call my sister (because that's what I do when I see weird shit)

I read the letters to her, and ask her if she's understanding it the same way I am.

Yep, she is. Apparently the person in front of me...well..... see's gay people.

Where exactly? Everywhere?? Or just in their car?? Are they ANTI gay or PRO gay? Has the area I live in had a sudden influx of homosexual residents? Or is it like the movie...and this person only see's DEAD gay people? Or is this person like the Gay Whisperer? I have to tell you how THOROUGHLY confused I am by this persons license plate.

And maybe that's the point.

But it seems to me if you want to make a point....It might better serve you if people understand your point.

I had a whole post written, and it's been saved in my drafts for about a week. I needed some time to go back and edit, erase and re-arrange - and for one reason or another I just never got around to it. It was a whole post about symbolism, and hating the groundhog ... if I can write my name on my windshield, I don't care what the calendar says.

However, I've spent the last three days sitting bedside with my Grandmother, who will probably pass away in the next couple of days, and writing anything here didn't really feel appropriate. However, NOT writing anything didn't feel right either.

Every afternoon I leave my folks at my Grandmom's, I have some time to think about the "normal" life that I still need to get done that day...and the post that's been sitting here for weeks keeps coming back to me. And the picture that I took that got the whole thing started.

I remember thinking when I took this picture that life finds a way. If it's meant to bloom, if it's time, it will no matter what the conditions.

Somewhere between my former life and my current life, I dated a few guys. None of them overly serious - most of them in the category of rebound. Spending some time in my life trying to figure out what I wanted, where I wanted to go...and who I was. Most of those short lived romances were doomed from the beginning, and the truth was I probably new it from the get go. But that's an entirely different post.

So, one of those guys was a total loser. And by loser, I desperately need you to hold your index finger and thumb in the shape of an L and slam in into your forehead about 20 times to accentuate my point. In addition to being a loser, he was also a drunk. Capital D, Capital Beer, Capital Bar, Capital Vomit - Drunk. And not the - tells inappropriate stories grabs your ass but apologizes - kind of drunk, but the - takes a leak in your kitchen sink at 10:30 in the morning - kind of drunk. No love lost on that one.

So, I got a friend request from him the other day. And because I can't walk away from a train wreck...I accepted it.

In my weekly incomprehensible conversation with my sister - I told her about my newly rekindled friendship.

It was discussed that there is a possibility that he is still, in fact, drunk - and maybe does not remember that he urinated in my kitchen sink. Or maybe he realized that he had a problem and joined AA, and he's on whatever step is making amends and is working towards his pin.

Somehow we jumped from that, to the strange friend requests that one occasionally gets from Facebook. There is not one person I've talked to that has not gotten at least one request from someone that they believe hated them in high school, or at the very least fooled around with their boyfriend.

At which I replied, that in high school, if you had dated someone for more than 3 weeks you were doing well....And do you remember back then you would have like a "one month anniversary"... and Holy Shit, I wish I could go back and smack the crap out of myself.

But then we decided that there should be a Monogamous Anonymous . And you should totally get a pin for it, just like AA. And I would totally introduce myself with that information..."Hi, I'm Kerrie...I've been monogamous for 2,556 days"...

And this by no means is making fun of anyone that is actually IN AA, this is making fun of jerk wad boyfriends who pee in sinks.

Yesterday was a snow day - and from the looks of the weather channel - so was most of my side of the U.S. Interestingly enough, the schools were closed the night before...even before it started to snow. Quite a bit of faith in our weather folks if you ask me. However, the predictions were correct (good thing too....the School Board would have been crucified) and we woke up to a winter wonderland.

Now, since I've not sent in my nomination for Mother of the Year yet - I've managed to get through this entire winter without any snow gear. I mean, I have regular every day mittens and scarves and stuff to keep her warm - but no ski pants and the like to keep her DRY. It really just does not snow all that much here. Not to mention that once I get her out there - she wants to come back in. Once she really shows an interest in the snow - I will absolutely mortgage the house to buy her all that crap.

Anyway, so I needed a project for the day to keep us entertained. The best kind of project would be where I can actually get something DONE and she can help without burning down the house. So, I decided that painting the spare room was the perfect plan. Give her enough drop clothes and last year's outfit - and she probably wouldn't make too much of a mess.

It actually worked out pretty well. It held her attention for about an hour or so, until she realized that painting the spare room is actually quite boring work and the ultimate goal really does not improve her life at all...so really....why do it all?

Honestly, I don't blame her.

So, my step ladder quickly became an airplane. She and her stuffed animals became passengers on her magical plane to far away destinations.

She had electronic maps that would beep at her. She would click on the map and they would zoom off into space. (I tried to explain that airplanes don't go into space....I got an eye roll. Right, sorry...carry on)

Soon - something horrible happened to our 'bleblop' (a technical term for a working part on a plane) and we crash landed on the Planet of Gorillas. Apparently the gorillas have not eaten in a LONG time, so we were going to be their lunch. We had to fix our bleblop, and fast.

"Oh no, what are we going to do?" I asked
"We have to call someone!" She said
"From space? You must have amazing cell service..." I mumbled...
"Mama...Do you know who we have to call!?!?"
"The Ghostbusters?!"
"What?? Who? No! Handy Manny! He can fix anything!!"

Shortly after Handy Manny got there and fixed our airplane, she left her stuffed animals behind and she took off.

I picked up a few things during our little planet hopping adventure.

My daughter has no problem leaving behind her beloved stuffed animals as gorilla food to save her own ass....Clearly my husband does not fix enough stuff in this house because he lost out to cartoon character as the guy who "can fix anything"....and for the rest of my life anytime ANYONE says "who are you gonnna call" ... visions of an enourmous Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is going to pop into my head.