Category Archives: dreams

“Hey! Are You Sleeping?” Said The Mother.

I have two business trips coming up, the first of which takes me to Vancouver, British Columbia.  Conviently, my Mother’s house is somewhat along the way. She lives in the hell fire deserts of Palm Desert, California.

See, it’s along the way, so I make a pit stop.

Fear not, trust me, there is a blog coming about my flights from Boston to the blazing hot, scorching deserts of California.  This however, is a quicker story for my internal body temperature will not allow much more than 5,000 words….as the external temperature of the sands rise, so does the temperature on my scalp.

In fact, as I write this, it is reaching 105 degrees today in Palm Desert.  That is hotter than two mice having sex in a wool sock, next to a wood stove, in January hot.  Just saying.

The day of my flight, I got up at 4:00AM.

Arrived to the airport at 7:30 AM.

Went through TSA Pre-check screening, had my shoulder bag x-rayed twice and then searched by 8:25 AM.

Took off on my first flight by 9:45 AM.

Took off on my second flight by 1:30 PM.

Arrived to the desert at 2:30 PM.

Mind you being on the west coast, makes my life three hours behind my regular program.  Everything is confusing to me.  I convince myself to stay awake until 8:00 PM.  Then I can go and take  shower and get ready for bed.  It will be 8:30 by the time my head hits the pillow and by God, that’s close enough.

Eureka!  8:00 arrives and I couldn’t be happier.  I am off and running.  Good night Mother.  Good night two chihuahua dogs..Buddy and Tina.  See you in the morning.

By 8:35 I am in bed, lights out.

ZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZzZz

Next thing I know, for some reason I am being woken up.  Don’t know by what.  Don’t know by whom.

I hear someone calling my name.  What the hell?  What?

I turn over and see my Mother standing by my bed.

??? Ok this is odd.

??? Why is my Mother standing next to my bed?

??? What???

??? Why is her head glowing?

??? Where the hell am I?

??? What the hell is she saying?

??? Who is dead?

??? What???

??? What the hell is she talking about?

??? Whose dead?

??? Where the hell am I and how did my Mother get here?

??? Who the hell is Tina?

??? What the hell?

At this point I figure, well if my Mother is here, I might as well follow her to see what the hell is going on.  All I can think is….who the hell is Tina?

I follow her out to the living room and my sleepy fog starts to lift…….

Ooooooohhhhh, I am at my Morher’s house.  Ok.

She’s upset. Ok.

She thinks the dog is dead.  TINA.

Ooooooooooohhhhh.

My Mother goes over to Tina’s bed and says, “TINA!  Come on! Time to get up!” And she claps her hands.

I am like, well…..the dog is deaf…..no wonder she isn’t responding….she can’t hear you.

Then my Mother grabs Tina’s head and it flops back on to the bed.

Lifeless.  No response.

Well. Shit.

Maybe, the dog is dead……not like I am an expert at these things.  So then I think, well now what?  We have a 12 pound porky Chihuahua dead in a bed.  Now what?  I ask the obvious….

“Do you have an emergency vet?”

As we stand there looking at the dog.

The Mother yells, “Wait!  Did she just breathe?”

I’m like…..lady, I barely know what state I’m in at the moment.  Could be Massachusetts or it could be California….

Mother yells, “No!  She definitely moved!  Look!”  And sure enough….Tina, the death defying, coma inducing, deep sleeping dog came rousing back to life.

With this, I bent over, put my forearms on my thighs and took some deep breaths.

SWEET JESUS!  I am going back to bed.

The Mother came and tucked me back into bed with a kiss on the forehead.  I took a look at my cell phone before going back to sleep…..it was a whopping 9:35PM.

Exhausted, I laughed….”who the hell is Tina?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Riding the Hog – Part Two

Disclaimer:
If you haven’t already read my Riding the Hog – Part One, please do so.

ducksWhile my previous blog about checking off my bucket list….being in a parade…. didn’t require two postings, this event certainly does.  It could require three. I am undecided, so we’ll see what we get. Of course, like a good mother duck, I want everyone to stay together and know where we’re going…so please read the first chapter.

Thank you.

The night before my undoubtably titillating Harley ride.. .I had to pack for an overnight.  I suck at packing.  I mean really, what does one wear for a Harley ride?

– Assless chaps was completely out of the question, so don’t even think it.

– Bikini? Ah no.

– Leather dominatrix outfit? Where the hell am I going to get that? (Well, trust me, I know where to find it just didn’t have the time to get it. Shocking. I know.)

– Shorts? The weather forecast literally said, “hot as Hell.” I have no desire to burn my delicate skin on a leather seat.

– Pink sparkly tutu with confetti gun? Probably not.

– Jeans. I’ll wear jeans.

Then comes the next difficulty. Shoes. Not wearing stilettos, nor hiking boots, not wearing sandals or sneakers.

I’m also short.
How big is this Harley?
Where do you put your feet on a bike?
What if I’m like a cat who climbs a tree but can’t figure out how to get down? I can get on the bike, but can’t get off….because my feet don’t reach?
Seriously, I can’t even be a penguin sanctuary volunteer at the local aquarium because I’m literally not tall enough. Fuck, what size are those penguins?

You can see, this is an issue.

I decide on boots.

Boots. With heels? Without heels?

Knee high boots?

Calf boots?

Ankle boots?

Well hell. When in doubt, take two pairs. With heels and without heels.

Shirt? Easy enough. Since I didn’t have time to find a leather corset, I settled for a black button up tank top. Shows pushed up cleavage….perfect.

Check. Got them in the suitcase.

But wait, cue the monkeys.

Wait for it.

There are always monkeys.

.

.

.

.

.

.
My Biker tells me …. (Note: everyone remains nameless in my blog to protect the innocent or they’re provided with a fake name….safer that way.) advises we will be doing one of two things upon my arrival:

1. Going for a boat ride
2. Taking the bikes down to the biker bar for dinner & dancing.

Well now, either option is exciting.  Whoo Hoo!

Here’s the monkey shit:
I only planned for one Harley riding, biker chic, outfit. Great, there’s always a monkey involved. Damn that monkey.

What if it’s cold?
What if it’s hot?
Is the bar inside or out?
What if we don’t?
What if it’s buggy.
What if it’s the boat?
What if it’s too sunny?
Too windy?

Well hell.

I throw in enough clothes that I could’ve outfitted a family of 6. Mind you, they’d have to be a family of little people

I had a selection of jeans, shirts, boots, jackets, tank tops, panties and bras. You needed it, I had it.

Oh what’s that you say? Where’s my bathing suit? I didn’t pack it.
I know!
Trust me.
I know!
I know, like I know, like I know.
I KNOW.

bass-fishing-lake-livingston-022210-01
I had no plan to get into the lake. There’s fish. Much different than ocean fish. These are confined fish. They may nip me. They may bump into me. The every so slight adjustment of water current due to their tail swish may get me.

Nope. Not happening.

Ever see anyone actually walk on water? Yeah, well the first time a bass or something bumps me, I’m levitating up and out of that lake and walking across that water like Jesus reclaimed the Earth….immediately.

screaming.banshee

All along screaming like a banshee on a blind date….to a peanut factory.

I pack up the car and have my little roller suitcase, which was surprisingly light …considering…and another tote with beauty products. Hey. I’m a girlie girl. This is how I roll. Love me, love all my crap.

Luckily the work day was an early release for me.
Thank sweet Jesus,  the day flew by faster than a raven looking for a half eaten McDonald’s burger.  I had no patience, I wanted to go….go….go….go!

I punch into Waze my destination address, The Terminator starts to direct me. (Usually I go with Elvis, but the way Arnold says “roundabout” makes me laugh, so I’m sticking with him for a bit.) I turn up the volume on my cruisin’ play list and hit the road.  Two hours until I reach my destination.

Traffic was a beast.  There was even a 5K run with a bunch of colorful runners on the road I had the pleasure of navigating through.  Which reminds me, people who run never look happy.  Why?  If it’s miserable, don’t do it. That’s my theory.

However, I digress.  Let’s return to the story at hand.

Leave it to me, I got lost.

Twice.

Even with The Terminator.

The Terminator, who is my Waze Guide, sent me to the “east” road when I needed the “west.”

Then my Biker called to help me find my way. First question he asks, “where are you?”

Seriously?  My bread crumbs ran out a long time ago.

At this point I was in Maine, somewhere between a pine tree and a fuck if I know bush.

I say I just passed the fire department. Of course, who the hell knows what fire department – it was some town’s. My friend advises me to continue down the road and turn right and go to the end – go all the way down to the dirt road, keep going and they’ll be on the right.

I hang up and realize, well…of course, I’m at an intersection.

It’s a dead end T-type intersection — of course. Which way?

It’s a 50 / 50 shot and you know me.  Let’s all say it together now, “I went the wrong way.”

Duh. Of course.

HEY!

News Flash: I lived in a town with only 40 miles of road! LAND LOCKED! …for 18 years. I couldn’t get lost. It’s no wonder I’m having issues with this now.

I make a u-turn and head the other direction. Find the road. Find the dirt road. Find the house.

My Biker is standing in the driveway waiting for me.

First thing: Do I want a drink?

Really, you’re asking me? I was almost eaten by the cannibalistic witch from the Hanzel & Gretel story on my way here as I tried to figure out which way was up! Hell yes, I want a drink. Two…one for each hand.

Second thing: Did you bring your suit? We’re going on the boat.

Well of course not.

woman-in-1910-bathing-suit-underwood-archives

Yes,  I should have brought my bikini….we’re hanging out on the boat.  No really, I honestly didn’t bring a bikini.  

I didn’t even bring a tankini.  
Nor did I pack a one piece.  
No thong.
No g-string.
No tanga.
No full bottom betty.
No skirted bottom.
Not even swim shorts!
Nope, no diving suit for that matter.
Not even a 1910’s full body suit.  
And my birthday suit is out of the question – it’s being dry cleaned and I’m not drunk.

I’m okay with that.  It’s early evening and it’s going to get cooler as time marches on. It’ll be fine.

SAVED!
We jump into the pontoon and I make some fast friends.
Beer in hand.
No complaints.
Wow, this is so relaxing.

Arrive to the far end of the lake and everyone piles out. Heading to a friend’s house for sandwiches.
Okay, where are we going?
Up to the campground.
In a pick up truck.
12 of us.
Okay maybe 6 of us.
Before I know it, the small person (ME) was voted to sit in a lap in the front seat.

Who?
Me?
What?
You want me where?

Thank you sweet Jesus …. it was my Biker’s lap.

Here’s an anomaly about me.

I’m not a touchy, feely kind of person.

Hugs? Oy. I’d rather go to the dentist.

Now I’m having to hoist myself into the cab of a pick up and climb into a lap.
Okay, it’s part of the adventure.
I’m small.
Sign me up. I’ll do it.

Image

Excuse me.
Pardon me.
Seriously?
Hold that.
Grab this.
Watch the head.
NO! MY HEAD….thank you.

A short jaunt later, we pile out and enjoy some adult beverages.
Pet the pets….two adorable dogs.
Order sandwiches.
Then…it’s time to pick up said sandwiches.

And guess what?
They’re going in a golf cart!
Not any type of golf cart, this is a 4WD, off road, golf cart.
WHAT?
Oh, I have to go do this.
YAHOO!

Of course, I pick the back seat.
Facing backwards.

And we’re off like a greyhound chasing a rabbit.

Over hills.
Through the dale.
Around the corner.
Passing through the field.
To the sandwich shop we go.

As we drive through the field….they advise me it’s a topless area.
Yes.
Ok.
Well, why didn’t you tell me?
Let me fix that.
One moment….as I prepare to take my top off.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Fear not my furry friends – my shirt stayed on.

I mean really.
In that wind, my boobs are so small you would miss them in the breeze. They’d be introverted in a heart beat and nobody wants to see that chaos. Going from oranges to tic tacs — never ideal.

Should we have been pulled over by the cops, however, I’d have whipped the shirt off.

Just saying. Don’t want us to get a ticket.

After dinner, we jumped back into the truck and headed back to the lake.
The sun is starting to set.
Stars are coming out.
We kick back.
Listen to music.
Drink beer.
Watch for shooting stars.
Watch for satellites – my new favorite search and seek.
Looked at the Milky Way —- in the S K Y. Thank you.
Picked up more friends.
Sang karaoke.
Danced.
And enjoyed the night.

Back to the shore about midnight and time to sleep…..it’s a big, big, big day ahead!

Stay tuned for The Final Chapter.

OMG! There Is Something IN THE BED!

Scene: 1:30AM. The AC has just kicked on and everyone is sleeping peacefully in the house.

The gentle, tick, tick, tick of the ceiling fan going round and round eases through the hazy night like the register of a musician’s time keeper.

One small feline, known as Taku, is curled up in the middle of the king size bed, next to her momma’s hip. Snuggled in for the night as usual.

Without warning, it strikes.

Here….we go…..the story begins:

Taku erupts like she was spring loaded from a Jack in the Box.

In one swift move, Taku ejects herself from the middle of the king size bed, to the bottom of the bed, to the floor. Something had her and she was terrified. What was worse, it woke me up and I was gobsmacked as to WTF was going on at 1:30 in the morning.

One moment the homo-sapien feline momma was peacefully dreaming of roller-saking at Radnor Rolls and the next minute I’m shock-forced awakened to trauma kitty freaking out about the monster in the bed.

WTF is going on? Who is President? Who won best actor in the Golden Globes? Who married George Clooney? How many days till summer? What day is it? Can I wear pink striped pants and yellow shoes? I’m so confused? I love kitty cats.

What? Where am I?

Taku comes back up into the bed. And decides to…..STALK my better half’s side of the bed.

Taku, is only 9 months old and is generally full of piss and vinegar. For her to be afraid of something, is unusual. This is out of the ordinary. Not to mention…in the middle of the night.

She returns to our bed, and when she does, she is scared and decides to stalk “the prey” by crawling along side my legs as I lay on my back in bed. Belly crawling would be the name of the game at this point.

WTF?

The entire time, she is focused on something on the side of the bed my other half is sleeping on.

Well, thank goodness it’s not my half of the bed.

WHAT IS WRONG? TAKU? TAKU? WHAT IS IT?

Nothing. She is serious about whatever she is hunting.

She is shaking.

She is VERY intent on her kill target.

Shit, was she hoping for a part in Kill Bill?

Then she stops and the posturing beings.

Butt up.

Front leg out.

Whapp. Whapp.

WTF?

She is smacking things in the bed covers.

WTF! WTF!

WHAT THE HELL!

I sit up, look at her, look at what she’s smacking and advise her, like the good homo-sapien mother, “there is nothing here.”

She turns around and hurls herself off the bed.

I start to settle into a doze of a sleep and she is back again. Stalking her prey.

On.
The.
Other.
Side.
Of.
The.
Bed.

I look at her and tell her…..
Taku, there is nothing there.

She ignores me. And then proceeds to belly crawl up the bed towards my hip. Every third step she stops and looks.

Her neck extends like E.T.

I swear, her neck must go another 5 inches in length….ridiculous for such a small cat.

Next thing…..wack, wack, wack…..with her long front legs…..kill that bed cover.

Then she runs off the bed.

Again she comes back up to the bed….and here we go again….crawling along my legs.

Her neck is extending.

She is now got an eye on a new target.

Her head is swaying back and forth on the target……

Her right paw comes up….ready to deliver a grand swat in the dark.

I stop her just as she is about to strike an erie….green.….glow in the dark… a watch face.

For PETE’S SAKE!

This is the last thing I need…Taku Kitty smacking…. the Better Half in the middle of the night…..over a mysterious glowing green watch face! Are you f-ing kidding me? Oh for crying out loud! This is not a monster!

She leaps off the bed, literally throws up on the floor ….because she’s so frightened by what she’s seen. Mind you, by this point, I’ve been whispering to her and trying to calm her down.

All she knows is something nearly had her. All she can see is some ridiculously glowing green thing…..a watch face. Which of course, must die, at 1:45AM.

I’m thinking. Is there something more?
AWESOME.

After throwing up her entire dinner, she gets back up on the bed and proceeds to hunt the attacker.

This has to stop. I have to show her. There’s nothing there. It’s like reasoning with a child.

Right?

I debate. Do I turn on the bedside light or the cell phone light? You know they put those handy little lights in the cell phones now. How nice! The better half says he can sleep through anything. We’ve been together for ever – so I decide….if there truly is something “IN THE BED” then I want to see it clearly, so I’m turning on the bedside light. I put my glasses on and prepare myself.

I flip on the light.

The Mister wakes up immediately….of course and looks at me.

It’s not like I could say, “Our youngest was having a nightmare and thought there was something attacking her….which was YOUR WATCH!”

So I just blink twice at him and calmly say, “Sorry. I thought there was something in the bed. Sorry.” All the while, quickly shuffling the blankets around to ensure I didn’t see anything scurrying around underneath.

Then here comes the ALPHA kitty – Liggy comes up on the bed. She, is of course, foliowed by Taku.

Liggy is the Queen of All Things Cat. And I swear, although Liggy likes to snuggle, I think Taku was so scared, she went and told Liggy…….I can so see this happening and this is how it happened:

“There’s something green and glowing in there and it scared me…you go in there and look.”

So Liggy climbs up on the bed….gets a drink of water out of my water glass and then curls up by my pillow…no big deal. Done. She has done this for years. Get over it small fry…is what Liggy is thinking.

There could have been a Palmeto Bug (aka flying coach roach). There could have been a lizard. There could have been a roach. There could have been a who knows whatever. Liggy doesn’t give a rat’s ass. Liggy is 14 or 15 years old. Whatever. I’m here. Move over. Feed me. Love me. Snuggle me. Get over it, or eat it. Or leave the room. Meh. I’m too old for this shit.

Everyone calmed down or left the room until morning.

I woke up at 6:30, at which point…..we progressed to Chapter 6 of the story:

Taku was still terrified of the bed. She was still very busy hunting that half of the bed. I had to pull all the covers off the bed to show her, “THERE IS NOTHING THERE….STOP BEING SO JUMPY. STOP ATTACKING THE BLANKETS.”

She has since investigated the room numerous times on her own and has come to the conclusion, it was a bad dream that was transferred the the glow in the dark watch face.

I have ensured The Mister has removed the watch and placed it face down on the side table….so as to not cause a pandaemonium overnight. OMG and heaven help all of us if it truly was a Palmetto Bug, or anything else, in the bed….because then truly, you will have to pry me off the ceiling along with the Taku.