Wishing Star

 My New Year Wish is for everyone to get their wishes for the New Year. 

No matter how improbable, huge, selfish, tiny, redundant, crazy, lazy, or silly. I want everyone to find their bliss. 

Now, if your bliss is to be a whacko hurting humans and animals, I have nothing to do with that, and we're most likely not friends. So, no. No wishes for you. **not so fine print**

Somehow in this life, I have always maintained hope. Even when pain seems unending and it's just one more thing after one more thing, I never lose hope.

I have hope for us. Yes, all of us.

Driving Rain

 I was watching Hurricane coverage on The Weather Channel and while the broadcaster was outside on a street in Georgia slicked with rain, commenting how most of the town was shut down, a UPS truck passed behind her. 

I laughed at first, imagining frivolous Amazon purchases or other online orders hurriedly being delivered inside a hurricane. Then I smartened up and remembered that people get their meds delivered and other healthcare devices. These are important and possibly life saving, specially for elderly people and the disabled that will be affected with major power outages and road closures. 

These drivers deserve every bit of the raise they negotiated. Plus hazard pay.

Get the Lead Out

 Most mornings I've been writing in my dream journal about all the dreams I had during the night and morning. I use my favorite mechanical pencil. I've had that thing for decades.  Well, I started to run out of lead. I searched and searched my apartment for the replacement lead (which I was positive was here somewhere) and could never find it. So, I ordered more. 

Today I'm putting the new lead into my most favorite mechanical pencil and decide to put the new lead somewhere that makes sense, where I won't forget it: at the bottom of the ceramic jug holding all my pens. 

When I dump out all the pens what do I find? All the replacement lead.

I have enough lead to last until the apocalypse.

Tongue Tied

 Dream if you will, a picture - of my Mom and I at a stoplight. Suddenly she notices a man to the left of us in the back seat of an old model Four Runner having a VERY animated conversation with the driver. With every word he is waving his bright Orange Polka Dot tie and using it as either emphasis or as the reason for each syllable.

Naturally we're intrigued, and a little bewildered. 

Then I start the voiceover for Tie Guy -

TG - Do you see this? This stain? This happened because you stopped so short. F$&K you Geoff! 

Mom laughs.

TG- I inherited this from my Great Grandfather and now it has frappuccino all over it because you can't drive for shit Geoffrey.

More Mom laughter.

TG- IT'S SILK!! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT IT'S SILK!! 

You owe me a tie you idiot.

The vehicle turns with Tie Guy still waving his tie and berating the driver.

Mom and I are both cackling.

Less Miserable

 For my Mom's Birthday I bought her tickets to a matinee showing of a local Highschool's performance of "Les Miserables." She was very excited. We haven't been to any plays or musicals in years. Between her health, my health, and a world wide plague, being in a theatre, having to climb stairs AND be packed in next to the Coughy Coughersons was just, not, our thing.

So, yesterday was the day for "Les Miserables." We showed up at least forty minutes early to secure decent parking. Was that parking you say? We starting getting nervous when we noticed vehicles parked out on the street. Then, when we get to the actual lot, we find one designated handicap spot, of course full. At least two levels of stairs to get to the building and if there even was a ramp it must have been hidden. Cars were parked in non parking spots like a free-for-all. If we were to park at all we would have had to go back out to the street and by the time us pokey limpy gimps would have made it to the theatre it would have been well into the first act and WE would be Les Miserables.

"Les Miserables" was abandoned and we opted for a day of shopping and hanging out instead. I'm not going to lie, I cried. It's very frustrating. And sad. That just climbing the stairs to go into that Highschool was such a barrier. That my Mom didn't get to enjoy her gift. Plus the absolute shit parking was infuriating. I'm calling the School on Monday and letting them know the situation and seeing about a refund. It's the principal really. Maybe you think I should have done reconnaissance and found out about the parking and ramps ahead of time. I say, ramps and handicap parking and elevators and bathrooms bigger than a phone booth are THE way and if you don't have these then you are purposely refusing any disabled person access. Full stop.

Our day was full and fun nonetheless. They always are. It seemed everyone had the same idea that we had; to be out of the house. Everywhere we went was packed. Including all the roads. We stopped briefly at Asian Mart and on our way back to the car I saw these young ladies carrying some super cool pots. I hollered over at them "What are going to cook in those pots?" She giggled "Tamales!"

Then at JOANN Fabrics is where our patience was utilzed again. With the one checker scenario. Poor lady. Three gazillion customers in line and only one lady at the register, wearing carpal tunnel wraps on her hands. Immediately in front of us was a family. A sweet, sweet family: Mom, Dad, and three kiddos. The two older kids were doing a fantastic job of entertaining theirselves whilst waiting in line. It was impressive. Then finally, the youngest, he just started to break. He didn't want to be there anymore. Real heartbreaking tears. He had just had enough. We all had. His little cries were so sad, and relatable. I wanted to buy him every treat in that aisle. He tried so hard. 

After they FINALLY brought up more people to the registers and things started to move, I mentioned to the Mom what great kids she had, how amazingly well they did waiting that long in line. It seemed to surprise her. But I felt that she was touched by it. It takes only a few seconds to reach a person. To reach them and, make them less miserable. 😉💖

Enlarge Marge

 You know when you want to expand/enlarge whatever you're viewing on your phone's screen and you do that very specific finger movement? That thumb and middle finger universal symbol/movement of "Enlarge." 

Well, every time I use that movement my brain is simultaneously connected to a frozen moment in time. Now, because I'm writing this down and my brain is full of song lyrics and movie quotes, I have "Wrote a song about it. Wanna hear it? Here it goes!"

Years ago, my Bestie and I were at the Utah State Fair, and with us was her friend/date. I don't remember this man's name. He was pleasant enough. What matters the most is that he had the map to the fairgrounds in his back pocket. After we had seen enough of the prize winning pumpkins and zucchinis, Mr. Date presented the paper map and became the navigator of our adventure. When Mr. Mariner couldn't find where and what he expected to find, he did the "Expand" move on the map. Then he did it again. It took about four tries for Not Magellan to realize what he was doing. 

I remember this in a flash every time I make that movement with my hand on my phone. Mostly because It's hilarious and I love it so much. I love how one silly event with people you could most likely never see again will stick. With you or them. Possibly become a core memory. Think how many stupid quirky sweet kind dorky things you did in High School, and since then, that are now permanently part of someone's daily joy. Chances are you have no idea whom many of them are. 

Alllllll those possible encounters and moments. And expand.

Can You Describe The Ruckus

 It's Mom's Birthday today so we ran errands and went to lunch. I had an appointment to hand in paperwork and go over my yearly rental recertification. As I sat in the waiting area before the appointment a rather large gentleman sat on the other side of the room, facing me. He was fidgeting, shuffling his feet. He wore a large backpack and it forced him to sit a bit forward. All of a sudden he rips a very loud fart. 

You see, the fart was trapped under his thighs and butt cheeks. Then it ricocheted off the flat surface of the chair so the volume of the fart expanded like a trumpet BLATTTT! He initially looked around like he himself was curious about where the sound originated, then barked "I have heartburn!" 

If that wasn't funny enough, the secretary was on the phone and when she heard the butt ruckus, leaned to the left to get a perfect picture of the culprit. Her WTF face is the stuff of legends.

Then Mister Fartburn pulls his backpack out from behind his back and continues to bark "I hope I didn't sit on IT?" I'm thinking, oh honey, you sat on it. But he's fiddling with a cannister of pepper spray that is hooked to the bottom of his backpack. "It has a carabiner! I got it from the police. You can spray it at... COYOTES! You can spray it at... MOUNTAIN LIONS! You can even spray it at Rattlesnakes! They just roll away."

I kindly engage and watch his fingers as he keeps flipping the pepper spray and think at least getting pepper sprayed in a waiting room would be a good story. "It's SPICY!" I say I have no doubt it is.

He does have heartburn.