Saturday, December 26, 2009

Day after Christmas (a story about personal space)

I don't want you children to picture Mama in the wrong light. First, I am generally a calm and collected lady, but after spending too much time with the family I can get a bit testy. Also, I am by no means in good shape but I do go to the gym on a regular basis. I am not one of those Jane Fonda tape lovers or juicy pants wear-ers. The bottom area of my jeans is juicy and I don't need no sign.

So, today I went to get a quick workout in to burn off some of the wine I consumed on the day of the Baby Jesus's birth. This same wine made things more tolerable for our big ass Christmas dinner. So, I went in and I get on this machine which is the same machine I've been using for about five years now> I call it wine-hater. So I am sweating off the last of my buzz and residuals and I am positioned between two other co-sweaters. To my left is a large bottomed middle aged woman we will refer to as Agnes because she looks to me like every Agnes I've ever known. Well agnes is on an elyptical machine and she has some arm weights and is going to town. She is waving her arms about like she's getting saved at the Sunday service, but children it's a Saturday morning. To my right is a mid-30 something gentleman who may or may not be a singer of questionable sexual orientation. Now, first let me ask you to please hold your comments and letters as Mama don't care which team you play for. I don't care where you stick it - as long as you finish has always been my mantra. If I'm not in bed with you I don't need to know. But this gentleman, let's call him Methy because he was acting as though he might be coming off some holiday high on his treadmill. He was running and singing and he had his eyes closed and making little hand gestures. I couldn't help but watch him with a strange expression on my own face.

Now, I admit that I do enjoy a good song on my ipod. And, admittedly I will move my mouth and occasionally belt out a lyric or two from the GLEE soundtrack but old Methy was working out the entire choreography from what I can only imagine was Dream Girls or any given Beyonce tour. I mean, he was giving it a show - including the finger guns. You know that move where you pretend your fingers are a gun? Well, now that I think of it maybe he was singing Bang, Bang by Miss Cher? Or that Ricky Martin She Bangs song? I don't know why I care but I was really into the show - when... what the hell? Agnes's hang grazed the end of my nose.

Now, here I am minding my own business in between these two monkeys and Agnes has moved on to some move where she appears to be swimming - but only on the top half of her body. No body told the bottom half which was still on the damn elyptical machine. I jerked and looked over and poor Agnes still had her eyes closed. I imagined she thought she was that Darryl Hannah girl in the movie Splash. I glanced around and wondered if people were watching us. We must have looked like we were rehearsing for the half-time show at the Special Olympics.

So, I get my 25 minutes of sweat in and gather my things to go. I only do 25 because that's all Dr. Oz says I have to for good heart health. Then I get in the Cadillac and head over to get my lunch. You might ask what to eat after a cardio work out? Well Moe's, moderately priced Mexican take out has always been my favorite. I am standing in line when this woman with a bowl hair cut walks in behind me. Clearly, Bowl-head (as we will call her) is impatient because she is standing so close to me she could advise me on a better nightly mud mask. Honestly, children that Russian lady that gives me a facial doesn't get that close to pop a zit. I am in line and about three feet from the family in front of me and Bowl Lady is right up in my business. The man behind the counter asks if I am the proud owner of the kids burrito and I explained it was for the people in front of me. Then Bowl-Head chimes in, "If you move up they'll ring you up. " I turned to her and said sternly, " not before the family in front of me." She replied back, "I thought you were together." I couldn't resist saying, "Nope. I am trying to give them some space." I turn back around and wait my turn and about a minute goes by when I hear Bowl-Head huff and say, "this is taking forever." Now, chuldren, this whole incident took less than five minutes. I turn to Bowl-Lady and say, "Excuse me?" She huffs, "This is taking forever." That's when I thought I would lose my mind but I remembered I was in a work-out outfit and probably not looking so sane or smelling so good and it would be best to avoid a confrontation that could end up in a deposition. So, I smiled my best shit eating smile and said, " I think we'll all be okay if we wait our turn. It's a burrito we're both waiting on not world peace." But, Bowl-Head wouldn't let it go. She had to get the last word in, "Well I have things to do today." Is this bitch kidding me? She needs to go get a hair cut from the last two decades or get her tv fixed because she is getting fashion advice from that damn show FACTS OF LIFE. Instead, I stood still, very still and when we got to the register I said, "Would you like to go ahead? You've made it clear you're in a bigger hurry than the rest of us hear? I wouldn't want to hold you up. I'm just thrilled that they let me check out of the institution today to get my burrito on the outside." Then I paid for my lunch and Bowl-Lady's burrito and said, "I hope you have a better day you rude woman." I figured it was worth the $6.50 to say my peace.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Mary Christmas

I hope all the chuldrens have a wonderful holiday. May your family be at arm's length and nobody goes to jail. Mama is taking some time off to enjoy the eggnogg. But I'll be back to tell you what sorts of ridiculous gifts I got that I intend to regift soon.

Peace on Earth and Love
Mother Barry

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Laundry and Petty theft

Here I sit on a Sunday, the Lord's day of rest doing laundry when I realize something. My fine linens don't match. You might call it petty theft but I call it memories. Yes, children Momma's towels are souvenirs from vacations gone past. I say if you paid $175 for the room you are entitled to at least one towel as a keepsake of your time spent at Atlantic City? Do you really think Caesar's Palace is missing that Celine Dion hand towel? I don't think those poor over worked and under paid house keepers noticed, and the memory puts a warm spot in my cold-as-ice heart. Listen, I'm not one of those crazies with a china hutch full of Precious Moments dolls or a Conway Twitty Memorial Plate set. I just sold my international spoons of the world collection at a swap meet three years ago. I just enjoy the occasional fine turkish towel. I don't take the robes because it's clearly marked they will charge you for them, but the towels are never mentioned in any fine print. Maybe one day I will launder them and return them to their rightful owners. But for now, I thought I'd share that nugget with you. Wipe that scowl off your face, it's not like I took the sheets. One time in Daytona City Beach cousin Earline took the sheets- yes the damn sheets- right off the bed and packed them up in her Samsonite luggage. Of course this is the same woman who says you can worm your kids. Naturally it's best to de-worm your family in a hotel where the sheets don't belong to you. But then she went and took them with her. Maybe she didn't worm that night? Maybe Earline is crazy as hell? Maybe I am but we aren't blood related. She married in as we say....well it's time for me to don my best puff paint and bejeweled Christmas jump suit and hit the mall. I even have my baby Jesus in the manger ear rings to go along with the nativity scene on the back of my jacket. It is a fetching number and people always ask me where I got it (usually in a scared or offended tune) but who are they to judge fashion? Only a few more days until Santa comes and all these little bastards ask if I got a gift receipt.