Mock Turtleneck Guy

Mock Turtleneck Guy was back at the sing-along on Friday night - this time in a purple one.  I can't even handle how awesome this is.  I mean, if you're going to chose a uniform, something that you can wear every day to any event because it is casual but with just a hint of sophistication (for 1991), and something that looks great with pleated slacks, you cannot go wrong with a short-sleeved mock turtleneck.  We chatted with him and his wife after the show and I almost asked them their names but decided against it.  It would ruin the magic if I knew too many personal details.  Although they are big into making out during the slower songs, which is plenty personal if you ask me. The west side of the amphitheater starts to resemble the SNL hot tub luv-ahs skit, minus the facial hair.

Besides, I'm developing a very elaborate story for them in my mind.  So far I have that they live in Glendale with their two kids (we've seen the kids, they are adorable in that awkward pre-teen phase of life.), she teaches art at the senior center, he teaches choir at a private middle school. They met in Berlin where they were both doing study abroad.  He's working on a cantata that he hopes to premier at the 1st Presbyterian Church at Christmas time but the church is going through a rather heated ministerial change that may foil the whole thing, that is, if he actually finishes it.  She's working on her PhD in 16th century German folk art but her fervor for the subject is waning and now she just wants to get it done so she can focus on her real passion, the recorder.  She's in a recorder ensemble at the church, which is also threatening to disband because the soon-to-be ousted minister's wife leads it.  They host regular block parties but get annoyed when Francis from down the street brings bread pudding when she knows full well they are all gluten intolerant.  Their children are involved in Tai Kwon Do, community theater, and foklorico dance. They went to Washington D.C. on vacation.  He only got sunburned on his forearms and the top half of his neck.

Toilet rats

1.  Seminary training started this morning.  At 6am.  I have given up on the idea that I will ever be a morning person.  It's just not going to happen.  I'm never going to leap out of bed.  Or be enthusiastic about it when I eventually get up.  I missed my exit on the drive out to the training.  And then I missed it again after I turned around because my brain hadn't caught up with me yet. But, I have a magic on/off switch that as soon as I need to start interacting with people I can do it.  This was helpful this morning, especially when I had to play the piano first thing. 

2.  I have been swimming so much these last few weeks that I actually have tan lines.  Well, more like lines from a layering of minor sun burns.  And the color variation is like albino white to egg shell white.  But it's definitely there. This is a first for me.

3.  I read the Most Horrifying Article Ever Written In the Entire History of Horrifying Articles.  I will not link to it. But I will tell you that it was about how rats can climb up your drain pipe and come out of your toilet.  Even if you're on a top floor apartment!!! The helpful suggestion they gave was that if you see one coming up you should shut the toilet lid and put something heavy on top because there are probably more coming.  And then you should pour dish soap on them because it will prevent them from floating and then you should flush the toilet.  I have a few things to say about this.  1.  If I see a rat coming at me from the toilet I will die. I mean dead as a dead thing.  2.  If I manage to survive the initial shock I will certainly shut the lid but I will not have time to put something heavy on top because I will be too busy running for my life.  3.  If I manage to make it through the initial shock and close the lid and put something on top there is no possible way that I would ever, ever open the lid to put dish soap in there. That's just insane. Like I want to open the lid to a bunch of angry wet rats who specifically crawled up my drain pipe to kill me.  Please excuse me while I go hyperventilate in a corner.

Pleasant dreams!!

Call in the detective!

Summer has offered me a bounty of free time and I've been using some of it to catch up on the enormous DVR list.  Lately it's been Masterpiece Mystery.  Specifically Inspector Lewis.  He's a cranky detective in Oxford and his partner is a former priest and they solve crimes usually involving murdered academics. I crochet doilies when I watch them.  I'm 80!

So I've been watching a lot of them which may account for how I ended up searching for footprints this morning.  I got to work and went about unlocking things and noticed that 1.)  the game room door was closed but it was open last night when I left, 2.) the front gate has been pushed against the lock, and 3.) the metal curtain on the outdoor fireplace was rumpled. Suspicious!

A few theories:  1.)  A homeless person jumped the gate and slept in the fireplace (it's large enough.)  But, there were no footprints on the very dusty hearth. Likelihood:  low.  2.)  Hoodlums were trying to break in.  Likelihood:  high.  Hoodlums abound in these parts.  3.)  Ninjas. Likelihood:  Nil.  It would explain the lack of footprints but they're not so shoddy as to leave the gate, the curtain, and the door in such a state. 4.) Wizards.  Maybe we're in some kind of Order of the Phoenix, 12 Grimmauld Place (I had to look that address up.  I'm not that obsessed.) situation.  Likelihood:  See Ninjas.  5.) Someone did pull on the gate, possibly a distraught student over the place being closed (it's summer!  Get a life!), the curtain was always like that and I'm just not that observant, and that giant cockroach I saw the other day was playing some air hockey with his buddies and shut the door when they were done.

Tales from the produce aisle

There was a traffic jam in the produce department at Sprouts this afternoon because a man was busy taking a picture of his wife holding two cantaloupes up to her chest.  She seemed mildly humiliated and he kept insisting that she look happy about it.  And then after the fourth attempt to get just the right angle he turned around and noticed all of us watching him and he looked a little sheepish.  Like he had completely forgotten that he was standing in a public grocery store.

In other news, I've discovered that they sell chocolate covered cinnamon bears at Sprouts.  I practically started my own traffic jam from the solo dance party I was having.

Warrior Owls

My friend Becky and her family are moving  this weekend (Boo!!!!!  Seriously, friends, stop leaving! It has been a mass exodus from the Upland 1st Ward.) so I took her boys this afternoon so she could have some solid packing time.

Which is how I found myself watching Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hool, a movie about warrior owls who have to learn how to trust their gizzards.  Trevor says the books are as good as Harry Potter.  I'm...skeptical. I don't know, I'm having a hard time with fighting owls.  You know how I feel about birds in general. 

But we also watched Coraline and ate pizza and swam for hours and hours. They asked if they could come over every day.  I would be up for that.  Swimming, pizza, and movies feels like every summer birthday party I've ever been to.

We Got the Right Stuff

You know when you're super excited about something and then something makes it even more awesome?  Like, for example, you're going to a New Kids on the Block/Boyz II Men/98 Degrees concert with some of your favorite friends and then Stub Hub upgrades your cheapo nose-bleed seats to a luxury box?  And then you die?  That's how great Friday was.

A rundown of the evening:

1.) There was an anime convention going on next door.  Oh man, anime people are THE BEST!  Everyone was dressed up with cat ears and neon pink wigs and school girl uniforms and there were wizards and, um, okay, it was mostly creatures I would never be able to recognize because I don't understand the obsession with anime AT ALL.  But these kids were so fun to look at. And who am I to judge.  I was seeing a boy band who peaked 25 years ago. We're all a little crazy.

2.) We had dinner at El Cholo.  And I ate my weight in chips and salsa.  And then enchiladas.  My grandma worked at El Cholo (not the LA one, a different one, but same family.) for like a million years.  She was a widow with 6 kids and they took good care of her (like sending her to Jerusalem for one of her milestone anniversaries with them. I'm not even kidding.) so I have a special place in my heart for them.  It helps that their food is awesome.

3.) Let's talk about this luxury suite.  I don't know that I can ever go back to cheap seats again.  I've spent my life in the cheap seats and have been quite content.  But now that I have tasted this kind of life, how can I be happy with anything else?  And Stub Hub was RAD about everything.  We had a hostess the whole time who was great. There was tons of food and drinks.  The seats was really comfy and you're not squished up against your sweaty neighbor. There were couches to lounge around on during 98 Degrees because who cares about them.  We got gift bags.  They provided binoculars. Near the end cake was past around.  During intermission we had an impromptu dance party simply because there was so much room. It was a blast.  Luxury suites for EVERYONE!

4.)  Boyz II Men were great.  Especially when they sang Motown Phillie.  Now that was a party.  I know exactly two 98 degree songs.  And New Kids on the Block...well what can be said.  13 Year Old Rachel was dying inside.  Because oh my gosh it's Donnie Wahlberg!!!  But Old Lady Rachel was also dying because oh my gosh is Donnie Wahlberg frenching that grandma? And can he please stop taking off his shirt?  Is he even wearing underwear because his pants are really low and I'm seeing a whole lot of area that should be covered.  Seriously, Donnie (and Jordan to an extent) you were kind of grossing me out. I mean, I get it.  It's the crowd you're singing to.  Middle-aged women who have to go home to their husbands and kids.  Give them a show.  But, ew.   There's no denying, however, that singing and dancing along to Hangin' Tough was hilarious fun.

To sum up:  GOOD TIMES!

The gang in our Stub Hub sun glasses.

 

Our view.  If you look at the top of the picture and go up a few inches, that's where our original seats were. Thanks Stub Hub (and Holly's husband Steven who purchased our seats through them.  We're all uniting our prayers so that this happens again to you but for a Dodger Game and not your wife's boy band concert.)

The United Steaks of Themerica

Tonight at the Numbered Streets Fireworks Extravaganza:  A Very Ghetto 4th! we paused the show so 5 year old Reed could say the Pledge of Allegiance.  Hands down the most adorable and patriotic thing I've seen in ages.  It started out with "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United Steaks of Themerica." and ended with a  song.

Also, if true patriotism is measured in the number of really expensive illegal fireworks that are shot off then the numbered streets of Chino wins!  We are so America!

Toss your cares and curls away

Camille posted this picture on her blog from our trip to New York:

 

 

And when I saw it I thought, "Hey, I have that shirt," and then, "Holy Cats! That's me," followed by, "When did my hair get that long?!" and then, "I have to cut it immediately!" Because that hair does not belong on me.  It's lovely, but it is not my hair.

 

So it's gone.  I chopped it today.  It just barely brushes the tops of my shoulders. Is there anything more liberating than cutting a bunch of your hair off? It feels so great. Hair cuts for everyone!

 

Let's hear what Millie has to say about it. (Note, I did not go that short.  I wish, but it is a losing battle against fine hair and cowlicks. I've tried.)

 

 

Squatting Servers

What are your thoughts on servers who squat next to your table as they're taking your order?  I am decidedly against it. It's just a little too casual.  And also icky.  Maybe if I was ordering fish tacos at some dive at the beach that would be more acceptable.  But if there isn't the possibility of having sand in your food then I'd prefer my servers stand upright. 

I once had a server sit in the booth beside me.  I didn't leave him a tip.

Summer You

Don't you love the summer version of yourself?  You're more relaxed, right?  You have all this time because there's so much daylight.  You can watch all the TV you want, but you don't necessarily want to because summer is for reading.  You don't feel like rushing.  The urge to throw things at people on the freeway has disappeared. Even in the heat you still feel like a better person.  I'm mean, sure, it's oppressive, and those puddles of sweat that formed on your arm as you were working out were alarming, but then you get to drive home from the gym with the windows down and there was stuff for root beer floats waiting for you. There are never root beer floats in January. Summer You is so awesome.