24 October 2015

Grownup Stuff and Chocolate

If you are the one of three readers that still visits (Hi, Mom), I've revamped several posts on my blog. Taken some down. Revamped others. I also couldn't believe how my writing has changed.

I could catch you up but you are, in all likelihood, a new reader and probably couldn't care less.

I'm a full-time job, working mom now. Done with school and bookselling. (sad face) Days go by where I wonder when I became the grownup. When does the brain switch from riding my banana seat bike and what to wear to grownup things like bills, vacuuming, and the next chocolate fix? I regularly imagine I'm living in a house where my mom will bust in the door and tell me to turn down WHAM and do my homework. I surmise the feeling doesn't go away for us with parents dishing guilt-ridden childhoods. The "get off the Atari and pick up your socks" voice forever rings in my head.

My kids are 12, 15, 16, and 19. I have fantastic kids. They have not adjusted to my working schedule yet. Its been since July and I love working outside the home. They miss my cooking and doing their laundry. Ha. However, it never occurred to me how many school meetings, assemblies, volunteer opportunities, etc...took place during the working day. The school begs me to volunteer. I'm lucky to be wearing clean underwear and a shirt that's not inside out. It's been an adjustment but since my kiddos are heading to college in 6 years or less, I'm thankful I went to school when I did. Now I have a job I love.

Today, I've done some laundry and spent the day reading and being a house hobo. I've spent the last few weekends this way discovering how much I love being home and sleeping in. Today, not so much. Which leads me to my early morning....

I had a call this morning regarding my Grandma. She has been in declining health these last months. She's been in failing health, with several falls, but in fairly good spirits (read: could still kick your ass in Scrabble). This last week she was attended by hospice and early this morning, she passed away peacefully in her sleep. I'm thankful she is no longer in pain and is finally reunited with family she lost long ago. She lived an amazing, beautiful, and full life, with knack for remembering birthdays. As a former English teacher, she loved her books even till the end. I am saddened and struck by how her passing has affected my sisters, my mom, and family. This year's holiday season will be a difficult one for many. Grandma was one in a million.

Sorry for the downer, but grownup stuff is what we have now...and with it is the occasional brutal hit to my heart. I'm convinced that's why we grownups have the chocolate.

Missing you already, Grandma....

Bee gets serious now and then
Listening to: Four Seasons by Vivaldi

25 May 2015

Store Testing Coffee and Other Marriage Builders

I found this picture online years ago. Where? I forget, but by golly she doesn't look like she is learning much from her punishment. If anything, she looks kinda happy about it.

Is this common for coffee-addicted husbands to punish their wives for 'not store-testing' coffee?

What would happen if she bought the wrong kind of mash potatoes? He gets to wear the heels. Thanksgiving gravy gone wrong means the Red Room of Pain. And don't even think about bringing home imitation butter. Gird your loins, you might just end up pregnant. With twins.

I can picture it now:

Marge makes coffee every morning with her perfectly coiffed hair and pearls. She smooths her apron over her freshly ironed dress and glances into the stainless steel reflection in the stove to check her makeup.

She would make sure her heels don't click too much on the clean and spotless, lemon-scented, tiled kitchen floor. She cooks his breakfast of two slices of toast, browned to perfection, and a two minute egg with a side of grapefruit juice, freshly squeezed of course.

And after she cleans up with her cute yellow rubber gloves, she drives to her local grocery and deliberately buys Yuban every single time.

That's what I thought. You go girl.

~Bee drinks decaf
Listening to: Black Coffee by Ella Fitzgerald

07 May 2015

Hey, Baby Wake Up And Hulk Smash A Chicken

Dear Interwebs, 

You may think you are so hipster and smart with your Throwback Thursday, Sweet Saturday, Follow Friday, and I don't know, Winnebago Wednesday, and Matricide Mondays but I'm on to you. 

You're probably tired of squinty baby and sibling photos and 80's fashion pictures on Throwback Thursday. I thought instead to share some memories. Which, if I was more hipster and smart, would have done this on Memory Monday.
Some of the best memories I have are in the past. 

Let me start again. 

Some of the best memories are ones that I have.

I have a feeling this is going to be a long story.

Once upon a time, when ages and waistlines were all in the 20's, My friend, Dana, aside from owning a killer green Volare with bald tires and a never-ending supply of Reese's peanut butter cups, had the cutest, little, studio apartment. 

Dana lived in this quaint, brick building located under the big blue Volvo sign in downtown Portland. If you've ever driven up Burnside, you know the sign I'm talking about. The building, I guesstimate was built in the 30's or 40's, evidenced by the carpet, feel of the building, the fallout shelter sign in the basement-gone-communal-laundry-room, and punctuated by the old-fashion elevator. The elevator's accordion-like gate hinged open manually, then the inside door opened manually as well. Once inside, you'd close the outer gate, the door, and you found yourself closed into this teeny tiny space. People in the 30's and 40's must not have taken up that much room. The elevator squeaked and groaned leaving passengers to imagine a sudden plummet to the basement with or without the button for the "non-existent" 13th floor. It never quite evoked confidence while ferrying passengers from floor to floor when it shuddered more than a mall-parking lot carnival ride.

Dana and I became experts at evading the young, unabashedly forward, Russian manager. He was always good fun, if not a bit handsy. He was harmless and regularly offered "his services" *wink wink*, singing while he roamed the halls in constant state of somewhere between inebriation and crapulously blottered. Its a wonder he kept his job for so long. Him and his "travel mug" of coffee.

One morning after Dana and I had a crazy night of Coffee People drive through, Oasis Pizza, movies, and people watching on "Trendy-Third" street, I remember being blasted awake with 120 decibels of ungodly noise coming from...a chicken. A rock n roll chicken.

I sat up completely disoriented. This was pre-caffeine, mind you. I was getting my bearings being somewhere other than my own room while suffering from too much late night caffeine and pizza. I said something like, "Who put this wall here?!" What I didn't know was that Dana, responding to the pot of coffee we drank with midnight movies, she pushed the bed in halfway to squeeze by on her way to the bathroom. My eyes finally focused and I realized when I sat up earlier, I was less than an inch from braining myself on the wall frame.

As good friends do, Dana just laughed at me. I begged her to make her chicken stop making THAT NOISE. Hands down it's loudest alarm clock I've ever heard. Although, I'm certain I didn't wet the bed. It was a weekend, not Wet The Bed Wednesday.

-Bee's best part of waking up is sleeping in
Listening to: Gravity by Trentemoller. - See more at: http://beerepartee.blogspot.com/#sthash.OnRaE1P5.dpuf
-Bee's best part of waking up is sleeping in
Listening to: Gravity by Trentemoller. - See more at: http://beerepartee.blogspot.com/#sthash.OnRaE1P5.dpuf
-Bee's best part of waking up is sleeping in
Listening to: Gravity by Trentemoller.

- See more at: http://beerepartee.blogspot.com/#sthash.OnRaE1P5.dpuf
-Bee's best part of waking up is sleeping in
Listening to: Gravity by Trentemoller.

- See more at: http://beerepartee.blogspot.com/#sthash.OnRaE1P5.dpuf
-Bee's best part of waking up is sleeping in
Listening to: Gravity by Trentemoller.

- See more at: http://beerepartee.blogspot.com/#sthash.OnRaE1P5.dpuf
-Bee says The Rock N Roll Chicken has approved this message.
Listening to: Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants

25 October 2014

Idiots Guide To Preparing For The Flu

It's very important to be prepared for anything. My purse is the mecca of natural disaster preparedness, chock full for every possible contingency. Safety pins, band-aids, hand sanitizer, lotion, bug spray, first aid, ibuprofen, nail clippers, tweezers..etc.

However, nothing in my purse can prepare anyone for the flu. This is where I come in. I've prepared a small checklist so you will be fully ready for anything flu-like that comes your way this winter season.

Set alarm clock in one hour intervals throughout the night. Turn off alarm at 3am. Stay wide-awake. Turn on TV, preferably Conan O'Brien reruns. Watch a heavily-edited episode of Sex and the City. Watch incredulously as the sound of infomercials on the Butt Zapper attempt to lull you back to sleep. Feel sleepy only when kids wake for school.

Get up in the morning and drink an entire bottle of Elmer's glue. Follow this by gargling a Big Gulp of glass shards. Follow with half a pot of coffee. Drive children to school. Look cheerful.

Go run a 5K after hand-unloading a truck full of gravel. Rest by lying down on your local highway. Truck ramp is best. Do not get up unless you are run over a minimum of three to four times. Smooth clothing and proceed to finish household chores.

Grab a handful of sandpaper from the workbench in the garage. Apply by rubbing vigorously to entire nose and lip area. Stop when bleeding occurs. Brush hair and put into ponytail. Apply chapstick. Reflect on how hot you look.

Go to Walmart or other drugstore and purchase as many over the counter medicines as legally possible. Visit several pharmacies if you score less than 10 boxes on your first attempt. Try not to look too guilty.

Procure an icepick, two if possible. Jam one in each ear, muffling sound effectively. Ask everyone, "What? I hab a cold." when they speak to you.

Go to garage and find the nearest tire pump. Shove end up nose as far as the pain will allow. Pump vigorously. Stop inflation only if pump breaks or you can no longer breathe.

Buy a disco lamp and install with 500 watt colored lights. Display strobe light show in bedroom. Point directly at your head for optimum retina exposure.

Purchase small ping hammer at hardware store. Use on upper molars twice a day. Make sure ice picks are still solidly in place. Tell everyone around you that you are finally feeling better.

Go to the grocery and buy soup, crackers, ginger ale, bread, and bananas. Bring home and dump out everything in toilet. Make yourself a cup of hot tea and a piece of toast. Eat nothing else for the rest of the day.

Get into shower. Refrain from using soap of any kind. Get into bed sopping wet with large brick of moldy Swiss cheese. Alternate turning on heat to 110 degrees and blowing AC. Read or watch TV while attempting to look comfortable.

Congratulations! You are now prepared for the flu.

~Bee (ironically) never gets a flu shot.