Change that blahblah, Part Tres

I know, I know! Its been too long to wait for part three of the Change that blahblah series. My sincerest apologies. We ended up going to the beach for the weekend and then the kids and I went to visit my family for a few days. Needlesstosay, I didn’t get a chance to blog like I had wanted to. On the other hand, my lack of posting has given me even more things that I absolutely MUST tell you. I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for this, right? Right? RIGHT! LOL

So have any of you ever had a real reason to have your back to the wall? I think Norman needs to have her back to the wall. When I get the creeps, I feel the need for my back to be by the wall. It makes me feel better. The last few days, I have had that feeling of someone sneaking up on me, and I know its from reading her posts, as well as the other synchronistic spooky things that I’ve been seeing over the past few days. It reminds me of a time when I was babysitting my sister. She was a baby, still unable to talk, and I had a friend over. I was packing to go back to college (yes, my sister and I are 20 years apart; no, there are no other kids between us) after college break, and she was hanging out in her carseat while I got my work done. Of course, it was nighttime, and that girl started laughing and waving at the door to my room. I swear she was looking at something, and her eyes moved around the room as if watching someone walk in. She was so happy, and my friend was so freaked out. At the time, it didn’t bother me too terribly much, because I was used to the feeling. Why? Every time I talked about my grandmother who had passed away when I was a baby, a music box in my room would play. Of course, after my sister watched this something, the music box played and then she was done smiling. {Before you get too far away, let me tell you that the music box didn’t ever just play a few notes, it played the whole chorus from start to finish without missing a note. So, no, the music box wasn’t just unwinding like music boxes do. I mean, what are the chances that every time I spoke of my grandmother, the whole chorus would play?} Thinking back on the whole situation freaks me out more now than it did then. It makes me want to sit with my back to the wall so no one can sneak up on me.

As an aside, I think that because of this desire to view everything that’s coming at me, I would make an excellent mafia boss. You know, like in the Godfather? As in, “You should have come to me sooner!” If you would like to sign up to be part of my mafia, just leave me a comment. Be sure to let me know if you would like to be known by a special name, such as Lucky Lola, The Crimson Camilla, Scout the Smasher, or even a more enigmatic name such as The Black Widow or The Bone Crusher. Oh, and if you have any stories that show why a person should have their back against a wall, be sure to either post that in the comments, or (dare I say it?) blog about it on your site and throw me a link back here, eh?

Now, lets talk about En Fuego Man at Starbucks, also known as Flaming Boy. I call him Flaming Boy, because he was so obviously gay. That alone is nothing to really blog about, but the kicker is that when he talked to me over the speaker at the drive through, Lisa (who was on the phone with me at the time) could hear that he was gay. We giggled and speculated what this boy would look like and here is the kicker of it all. He looked like what I call “one of Liss’s boys”. Liss has a ten mile long list of gay men that are her friends. Having met some of them, I will make not just a generalization, but a SWEEPING GENERALIZATION, about Liss’s boys: they are very polite, fun, and great friends to Liss. Several even have impeccable fashion taste. Anyway, En Fuego Man had a full tilt Liss’s Boys Uniform on: collared shirt, cacky pants with braided leather belt, leather loafers, and not a hair out of place. He was a nice looking boy, and very polite. But it made me wonder: are all obviously gay men excellent dressers? Are they all polite? Fun? Good friends? I’m going to start keeping track of the politeness-factor of the men I run into…

Having put that out of the way, let me tell you that when I take my children to the doctor, I have to travel about 30 minutes. Why, you ask? Well, we used to live about 15 miles north of where we live now, and I really like the doctors that Michael went to up there. When we moved down here, I was going to transfer his records, but frankly, all the people I contacted were snooty, so I figured why bother? Anyway, while driving up there, you feel like you are in the boonies (mostly because I take back roads to avoid the massive traffic of the highway). There were a few questions that I wanted to ask you that stem from one of the little towns that I drive through along the way:
-If you live on Sweepstakes Road, does that make you ineligible to win a visit from Mr. McMahon telling you that you won a kajillion dollars?
-Is the 1130-230 timeframe really the optimal time to completely overhaul the landscaping at the McDonald’s drive through?
-If you are going to sell bird cages from your front yard, wouldn’t it be more appealing to a potential purchaser if the cages did NOT have bird toys and (what I lovingly call) poopy papers in the bottom?
Just curious what your thoughts are on those… (insert rolling eyes smiley here, would ya?)

One more question for you guys. Is there anything that really freaks you out when you’re watching television? I have two that just kill me. First and most freaky is that new effect that they are using in horror films where the people move really fast and jerky. You remember the commercial for Gothika? That one chick moved across the hall like that and I knew right then and there that I could never watch that movie. I still haven’t, even though I’ve had it in my possession for probably a year and a half thanks to Liss leaving it here. The second one is watching old black and white documentaries about indigenous peoples. Oh, I can handle naked bodies everywhere, no problem. Its the random eyes rolling in the back of the head dancing that freaks me out. Besides being scary to look at, you wonder about the logistics of it all-how do they not fall into the huge bonfire while dancing with their eyes like that?

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2 responses to “Change that blahblah, Part Tres

  1. Blahblahblah for sure girl! Sheesh!! Are you trying to pull a Liss? šŸ˜‰

    Ok, so answers to your questions:

    1) Yes! I’ve been waiting with baited breathe for this post. šŸ˜›
    2) Definitely have some spooky stories I can share. Look for an upcoming post on my blog.
    3) Sign me up! I’ll be The Black Widow (you get my drift?)
    4) LOL on Flamingo Boy – I shoulda had you take a pic for me.
    5) Thoughts on randomness… yes, eneligible; never an optimal time; and EWWWW!!!
    6) and finally, I think YOU’RE freaky! Does that count? šŸ˜›

  2. Ok. I think I put the scary-factor of the music box right up there with how scared I was when my little boy asked me : “Who’s that man outside the window?” AAAAAAH!!!!!!

    Norman!

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