the nose knows.

nose hole here.

i realize there's been a lot of discussions going on...some in our own homes, regarding...well...me.

some love me. some don't. some can't figure out what i'm doing here. but that's philosophy.

i don't do philosophy.

i am, however, smarter than my host. so much so that i am here to convey her thankfulness (and thoughtlessness, i must say) over those out there that wished her (and me, too) a happy birthday.

that being written. allow me to thank Leslie & Melissa for the lovely cards.

SusieQ & Linda for sufficiently embarrassing the host while singing my praises.

y'all are SO on my Christmas list.

finally, to all of you who posted or emailed to wish the host a happy birthday...all i can say is why. she certainly is self centered (why else would she draw attention to herself by adopting me?!). although by adopting me, well, i can only say i'm an improvement.

(offstage sounds of a scuttle. furniture overturning. lots of screaming)

*whew* kids? you still out there? sorry about the hole taking over. he's been doing that lately. kinda scary. i'm thinking i may need an exorcism.

or is it possible to put it on mood enhancing drugs?

either way. i do want to echo the hole's views. thanks to everyone who posted about my birthday, sent me cards, via email AND snail mail, and most of all for your good wishes. this really has been the most fun birthday i have had in a long, LONG while.

oh and anything else the nose said about me is a dirty lie.

treat me like the princess i am...and i'll never let you down.

you may call me Her Royal Hindass Princess Valerie, ruler of all things cool and righteous.

riiiiiiiight.

seriously. i have had the best 24 hours ever. and short of the baby fairy dropping one off at my stoop, it couldn't have been any better.

work was so-so. but after getting home, the Husband told me to change my clothes, we were off to fine dining. and, not knowing where i was going, was gonna make things interesting. but...the Husband doesn't make me get dressed up to go to Red Robin for burgers, so i'm good with it.

we went here.

yum. yummy-yum-yum.

after they seated us, the maiter'd took our white napkins...and returned with black ones. we were both wearing black, and so black napkins wouldn't show the lint from the white ones.

i ain't in Kansas anymore.

the waiter, came by and said he was going to illustrate the menu before he gave them to us. then he pulled over a cart that had a basket of fresh veggies, a huge tray of steaks, covered with a thick layer of plastic wrap; the third tray had a lobster. but i figured it wasn't real.

as the waiter explained the different steaks they had, the veggies and salads, he then said "oh, and we have lobster..." and picked it up.

it moved.

holy freaking cash cow Batman. it's a real.live.lobster!!!!

i swear if my eyes popped any wider, they would've split in half.

now i wasn't going to order the lobster anyway, but even if i was, i couldn't. see, for starters i bonded in that quick moment with Chris Crustacean.

no. not really.
i'm really enough of a baby to want my food to not look like it's original form. i realize it's silly.

i realize it's childish.

welcome to my world.

but dinner was wonderful. AND i got chocolate lava cake for dessert.

Weight Watchers be damned. i ate it all.

then came today.

we ordered lunch from a killer Mexican place. my friend brought root beer floats for dessert.

then came the gifts.

i got the new cookbook from the Deen boys. i got beer and beer glasses from a brewery in Escondido, just down the freeway in San Diego Co.

and tonight a group of friends from work are going to a BBQ place to continue the celebrations.

it's the never ending birthday. and even though my mother disapproves of my little stud, and my step-pop called me a barbarian (i think he was kidding...wasn't he?), it's been a totally fun, celebratory 24 hours.

and, unlike Lindsay Lohan, i didn't crash my car and end up in rehab.

by the way...

on YOUR birthday, did you get greetings from:
Donald Duck?
Keith Urban? (sigh)
Donny Osmond? (sigh. sigh)
your favorite San Diego radio station? (and on the card was cartoons of Ozzy and Keith Richards...BOTH of whom, i must say, i definitely look better than)
Southwest Airlines?
Borders Bookstore?

no. of course you didn't.

say it loud: i'm middle aged and i'm proud....

i am 45.

it's official. i now begin the walk down the middle-of-the-aged road.

riiiiight.


i ended up going to work today, because the Boss called and said his wife was going to be induced today, so don't hate me, but please go in?

well, ok. but you gotta name the kid after me, since she's likely to be born on MY BIRTHDAY.

he laughed, that kinda nervous laugh people have when they're not sure if you're serious or not.

well, of course, i'm serious, dammit...if i'm giving up my vacation the LEAST you can do is name the kid after me...'specially since she's gonna be born on MY BIRTHDAY.

i gotta talk it over with the Wife first, he says.


chicken.


today wasn't bad. just really slow (which i was expecting) and SO would rather have been at home, no makeup, watching Season Two of Dead Like Me on DVD (thanks, Husband!).


and thanks, Linda, for the birthday wishes on your blog and the ecard. totally made me laugh.


oh, and to prove i am ripe for a midlife crisis.... i present photographic evidence.


do not adjust your monitor.
that is a real, genuine nose piercing.
not the magnetic one i bought earlier this year (and was terrified the backing would come off and i would inhale the magnetic disk...sheesh. what am i, four years old?)

a real stud in a real hole in my really big nose.

did it yesterday in Newport Beach at a VERY clean place my friend recommended.
took no time at all, and didn't hurt NEARLY as bad as it did when i got my ears pierced, 27 freaking years ago!!!
(quick version of that story: i lived with Crazy Auntie Kay at the time, and she said ANY piercings was barbaric. i wanted my ears pierced, so on my actual 18th birthday, i took the bus over to the Lakewood Center Mall, to Chic Accessories and got 'em shot up. it hurt soooo baaaad, i ended walking around the mall in a stupor, crying for about half an hour. wuss.
oh, and Auntie was so angry, she didn't speak to me for almost a week. imagine what she's doing now, from her vantage spot in Heaven!)

i'm still getting used to it. i see it occasionally, and think it's really sparkly/glittery eye shadow. then i rub it.
stupid.
it doesn't hurt. it didn't even hurt *after* the woman at the shop pierced it.

oh...about that woman.

nicest lady ever...was kinda like a grandma figure...i cried a little..well, welled up really bad when she first pierced it, and sweet lady put her hand on my shoulder and said, "you OK, sweetie?"

what was funny is that the woman had tattoos up & down BOTH arms.
definitely not my grandma.

oh and now, i'm announcing Random Thoughts - Live!
yes, for a mere pittance, you can hire me, yes me, to entertain at your parties, receptions (Jolene? just a thought...), Tupperware parties (only not ones that are fundraisers designed by people you haven't seen in over 20 years)...my talent? (and thanks to my dearest Kristie for this idea)

i'll be performing a Dancing Waters show.
out my nose.
i'll be using my new hole to create water illusions AND! by shining colored flashlights on the waters, i can color coordinate for any occasion! to any music you choose!

now that's entertainment.

so thanks - and here's to my next 45 years. heaven only knows what i'll do next.

Land of the Free - for a reason.

i would love to take credit for this, but i can't. it was sent to me from my friend's wife, who's son, Eric, spent nine months as a fireman in Afghanistan.
i can share with you and echo its sentiment. and to also add i also fly it for my stepfather from D-Day. for Eric and for Chad - young men all, giving up all.
Memorial Day is not about BBQs. it's not about beach parties or weekend get-aways. it's about the young men and women, past and present, who serve this Country proudly.
and for the families at home who pray and wait for their safe homecoming.

Below is a letter that our past Blue Star Mom president wrote to the CC Times...it probably will not be published, but cannot pass up the chance to share this great writing with you all.
Something to reflect on Memorial Day.

Memorial Day, I will be flying my America flag on Monday, and Saturday and Sunday as well. It is a quiet salute, unlike the call to protest that some have called for. That is political expediency in its rawest form and I denounce that in a loud voice.

I will be flying my flag in honor and memory. I will be flying it for my friend, John Farley, who was recently taken from us. It was through his eyes and his stories that I first began to understand the horror of December 7, 1941. He was a young man that morning, but by the end of that day, he was old beyond words. He remembered each of his buddies, where they were standing, what they did and how they died. He carried that burden for all of his remaining years. I will fly my flag in his honor and remember his service.

I will fly it also for my friend, David McDonald. He doesn't talk much about Korea, except to tell me it was cold. His body is so full of shrapnel that he cannot have an MRI. He is frail now, but not willing to give into this old age stuff. He fights it everyday with a quiet dignity that inspires me. I will fly my flag to honor him and his grit.

I also will be flying it for Lt. Jerry Novakovich. I didn't know Jerry, but I have come to know him through his mother's eyes and through the eyes of his friends. He had it all and he gave it all on February 9, 1968 in Hoi Anh Province in Vietnam. I presented his mother with a Gold Star Banner in January. She told me it was the best day of her life. I wept that she waited all these years to feel honored for her sacrifice and for Jerry's. I will fly my flag for her and for him.

A tiny down payment on a huge debt I owe them.

I also will fly my flag for the young men who grew up among us and went off to war. We didn't know at the time the depth of their caring and commitment. They knew the risks. I have tried to be worthy each day of their sacrifice. I have finally learned they had already found me worth it. I didn't have to earn it.

I will fly my flag for Kyle and Mick and Travis, for Ben and for Eric, and Daniel and Sean and Jimmy. If you don't know their last names, shame on you. You owe them at least that. I will fly my flag for them with thanks and with the honor I owe them. Today is not the day to question the worth of any of this. Today is the day to just say, "thank you." It is a day of honor and remembrance.

DebJoe - USMC 2001-2005

thought for the day...

seen on the back of a truck in the parking lot:

Who Lit the Fuse on Your Tampon?

disgusting, huh?

i laughed my butt off.

send all old people to prison!

OK, i think we know i really don't mean it.

or do i?

naaah.

we went out to dinner tonight with my parents for my birthday...which isn't until Tuesday, but celebrate early and often is the motto 'round here. my parents met us here for some killer hushpuppies, pulled pork and sweet 'tater fries. oh, and there would have been Dixie's Crimson Voo-Doo Ale, except that the restaurant doesn't carry it any more. schmucks.

digression, they call you valerie.

so anyway, like i said, my parents met us there. having not been there before, my mom asked where the restaurant was, and quickly looking online, i see it's at the corner of Bellflower Blvd. & Flower.

or so i thought.

it's actually a street after, but! you can turn onto Flower, and cut through the alley to get to the restaurant. so i called them at home to tell them.
too late. already left.
so i then called my mom's cell.
not on. niiiiiice.
then i think, hey! try step-pop's cell! he usually has more minutes on his cell (they have pay-as-you-go service).
guess what? it's not on, either.
and they don't have voice mail.

many's the time i have said, look...just get a family plan with a small amount of minutes. but they would have voice mail. there's been more times than i can count (and i'm horrible at math to boot) when i couldn't reach them and leave them a message because they don't have voice mail.

so. back to the location problem. not sure if they would figure out where the restaurant was, the Husband and i walked up to the corner they would turn on to try & catch 'em.
after about ten minutes, i tell the Husband i was going back to the restaurant to see if we missed them.

they came out of the restaurant just as i got there.
"well! where have you been?" my mother says.
"yeah and what kind of computer you got that gives bad directions?" the step-father chimes in.
i respond that IF they had their cell phones on, i could've reached them and told them.

then my stepfather comes back with "well, i'm old but not stupid, if you think i couldn't find where this gosh darned restaurant is (ed. note: if you know my stepfather, you know he didn't say gosh darned. family blog and all.)"

wow. suddenly Bellflower is the Happiest Place on Earth. move over, Disneyland.

once inside, he calms down considerably. then he starts winding up again about did i get a table instead of a booth because you know your mother has a hard time sliding in booths.

nooooo. it never occurred to me. i only have known her my entire life and know her physical limitations.

we get a table. WITH chairs. score one for me.

dinner was good. step-pop got better. by the time dinner was done, he was much better. i had just decided that hunger was the only issue and that he wasn't a grumpy old man when, walking through the parking lot, we miss getting clipped by an old man driving his Lincon Contental with his wife.

"gosh darn that fool," the stepfather says, "old people need to have their heads examined and should probably all be sent to prison."

hmmm. i don't think he'd like it if the Fogie Police came for him.

stalking for dollars.

how i could forget this story is beyond me.

about a week and a half ago, i came home from work to find two messages on our machine. odd.
even odder is they were from the same person.

a person whom i haven't heard from or seen in twenty years.

twenty years, kids.

she calls again the next day.

stop.stalking.me!

she calls again the next day. and me, in my little crafty area with no access to caller id, thinks it might be my husband.

oh. crap.

it is a girl i knew from my days in Rainbow. she was a state officer, representing California to the Great State of Kansas. i went with her on her official visit as a chaperon.
(i have a funny story about us getting lost in downtown Wichita, and going into a bar that wouldn't serve us lunch unless we were both 21 - and i convinced them that we were both over that age. actually i was, but she wasn't but again - that's another post.)

this girl is now married, three kids, and lives in Wisconsin. but daaaaang - the girl can talk.
example:

"heygirlhowreyoudoing?longtimenotalk,letmetellyouwhat'sbeengoingoninmylifeigotmarriedandhad kidsandthenimoved to hereandi'mthinkingofgettingbackinvolvedwithRainbowbutireallylikeithereblahblahblahblahblah."

breathe, dammit!!!

so - as she rambles on, i come to find out that she had contacted another girl from Rainbow, that i had been friends with. girl #1 asks girl #2 if she knows what happened to me, and girl #2 proceeds to give girl #1 my phone # & address...without asking me first!!!

huh? i don't even talk to #2, and haven't since her mother passed. and she's giving out my info?
sheesh.
thank heavens she doesn't work for the State Dept. i'd be moving to Canada or something.

so. why do you think it is she called?
she.wants.money.

not for herself, but another girl that was a member of our Assembly, who also grew up, got married and had kids recently found out her husband has cancer.

what kind? they don't know. how serious? no one knows. cynic that i am, i keep thinking it's skin cancer, and while i don't discredit the seriousness of skin cancer (being an oh-so-fair-skinned chickie, i try to not leave the house with anything less than SPF45), i do discredit the idea of planning a fundraiser before we even know what we're dealing with.

three days later i get a packet in the mail from this girl with Tupperware brochures.

oh boy.

don't get me wrong: i will always help wherever and whenever i can. i'm just not sure which ticks me off more: planning to raise money for a crisis that hasn't happened yet or giving out my mailing & phone # without my permission.

i'm such a crank.

so - i'm planning a fundraiser of my own. please. give generously to help me battle the horrors of...middle age. do what you can to ease the pain of turning 45.

every little bit helps. (me fund some Botox).

after all, i don't want you to think i'm not philanthropic. but i don't take credit cards.

peace out!

what th'? - reduex

for starters, i figured out that the graph fwrom (fwrom? what, i'm now channeling Elmer Fudd?) the post about my accent was messing up the blog.


hence why i had nothing on the sidebar. whatever.


but i know you've been on pins and needles about the shower today.


it. was. good.

of course, we had some good giggles...and not all at someone's expense. for starters, the one girl in our group who told everyone else but me that she couldn't afford to go in on the gift card brought in some food for us.

she came in quite chipper and chirps: "i brought WATERMELON!!"
how lovely!
how wonderful!
how whole it is!

wait.

yep. she brought in a whole, uncut watermelon. she then proceeded to put it down and skipped away.

not exaggerating. she skipped.

hole-ley crap.
and it's only 7:15 a.m.

so of course, it was up to us to carve that bad boy up. luckily i brought a large sharp knife.

oh, but there's more!

one of the guys in our group emailed me that he had no idea what to bring to the potluck. so i emailed back a list of foods: muffins, fruit tray (cut would be good), cookies, cheese & crackers...

oh! he says - cheese & crackers - that sounds good, i'll bring that.

good. i think. my work for food is done. or so i thought.

so today as we're setting up the food, this fellah says "i'm gonna set up my cheese & crackers now."

sounds good.

ten minutes later, he emerges from his cubicle proud as punch.

he's decorated Wheat Thins with cheese-in-a-can. not leaving it out for the individual to squeegee their own cheese out. nope. not him. he's gonna do it himself.

what made me laugh was watching the cheese change color as the air hit it. eventually the cheese was the same color as the crackers.

niiiiice.

the other good laugh was, this morning, as i retreived the cake from it's hiding place, i was stalked..er, followed by a nice (but odd) young lady who was making comments on the cake: how cute it was, what kind was it, oh that's my favorite kind, etc.

so you are setting it out now? she asks.

well duh.

yeah, it's cute and it can be part of the decorations, so i think it's a good idea, i say.

well, i'll just come down with you and get a piece for this morning, she says.

wait.....what? it's 7:30. you want cake @ 7:30 a.m.? and you want me to cut the cake before our guest of honor has even seen it? what th'...

oh no, i reply, we're not serving cake until 2:30 when he opens the gifts. i'm sorry if you misunderstood me.

see? wasn't that better?!

oh, and everyone left the clean up for me. but i'm not bitter.

my boss was speechless. surprised. touched.
and we're doing it again in three weeks for another chick in our group who's preggers.

stay tuned. there'll be more stories to tell, i'm sure.

please knock some sense into me.

someone, out there in internet land, please tell me what i doing...and why i'm doing it.

example one:
i have just eaten an ENTIRE pint of Ben & Jerry's. Willie Nelson's Country Peach Cobbler ice cream, no less.

my favorite part is the little shortbread bits in it.

example two:
i engaged my own services to putting together a baby shower for my boss. the shower is tomorrow. i have purchased, out of my own money, a $75 gift card for Target, because that's what the group wanted to give.

i had to pull teeth to get the cash out of these people.

geeze-zoo-wally.

i made a card, and asked each person i gave it to, to return to me, NOT to pass it around.
when i got it back, everyone had signed it. including those who haven't paid me.

grr.

i finally did get the money from everyone, except for one young lady, who told someone else in our group she couldn't afford it. which is fine, i get the whole budget thing. just please tell me, not everyone else.
my friend said to me that she was probably embarrassed.
i say she wasn't too embarrassed if she could tell other people in our group.

dang. i really am a snot.

i will be oh, so glad when this is over.

in other "crap, am i cranky and a snothole to boot" news, my friend shot an email to me, asking for help with a brick quote.

a brick, you say? why a quote on a brick?
there's an open space in Disneyland, between Disneyland and California Adventure, that has octagonal bricks. they can be purchased, and originally had your name, and location or a date on them, along with the castle logo.

my friend, who got married at Snow White's wishing well in 1996, originally planned on purchasing another brick with their anniversary date. but he missed the deadline. now he found out that former Cast Members (as Disneyland cast members are called), have an exclusive design for a brick.

so - me, being the writer, was asked to come up with something quotable. apparently, he liked my writing abilities, when we met a man who wrote a book on Disneyland, and my friend wanted him to autograph it. the author asked what he wanted him to write, and me, ever the smart ass, replied, "how about: to my bestest buddies - have a bitchin' summer - hugs and kisses, Bruce."

everyone laughed.
he actually signed it that way.
my friend is mightily amused. his wife is not.

back to the brick...here's my first try:
don't spit on me.

why not? it's accurate! for some reason, he didn't like it.

so here's my second smart ass brick idea:
whatcha lookin' at?

and my real one:
where our magic began.

i don't know what he thinks yet...haven't heard back from him. could be bad, could be good. but the moral of this story is - don't ask me questions if you don't want to hear my answers...especially when i'm in this kind of mood.

and especially when i've eaten a whole freaking pint of ice cream