Monday, June 8, 2009

Mish Mash

I return to blogging with a bunch of disconnected mish mash. Off we go...
1. The 5th floor men's restroom at work continues to horrify me. We've finally gotten rid of the boogers- it took me two maintenance requests. I'm sure by now I'm known to the maintenance staff as Booger Boy. Today, though, we reached a new low. I wandered in to the handicapped stall, which I typically do, because it is a little roomier and the toilet is higher. My worst fear of course would be that one day, I see a pair of impatient wheels roll up outside the stall and... never mind. I digress. So, anyway, I wander in to the stall and go to grab some paper for the seat, when what horror of horrors did I see? I'll tell you. All over the seat and completely covering the floor around the toilet were.... giant flakes of dead skin! Not just 20 or 30 flakes. Oh no. This was about 300-400 flakes. Not just little flakes, but big curled 1/2 inch flakes. *gagging* How does this happen? Does someone with a really dry butt seat on the seat and scratch their thighs while doing their business? I've never seen such a thing. Is there a doctor in the house? Feh. Now go eat some corn flakes.

2. The cabin has been an absolute joy. We've been having great weekends up north with the dogs. We have human visitors too. The MnMoms came for a visit over the Memorial Day weekend. If you're looking for the perfect guests, invite them over. Low maintenance and good food.

Here is MNMom herself and youngest offspring kayaking on the lake.

Here is Claire, Mr. MNMom (John) and the ever lovely Curt enjoying the early evening in front of the cabin.

3. Speaking of the MNMoms.... Mr. MNMom (John) is a craftsman extraordinaire. He just finished 4 projects at our house in Golden Valley and is up at the cabin for the week vaulting the ceilings in the dining room and living room. He has years in the home construction business and is meticulous about his work. I'll give you his number if you're in need of a contractor. Truly outstanding and a really nice guy to boot.

4. Sunday morning I was out kayaking on the lake and was the only person on the water. It was a pretty cool and misty morning so people must have just stayed inside or something. So, I paddled out to the middle of the lake, set down my paddle and sat there with my eyes closed for about 5 minutes. What an incredible sense of peace. Shortly thereafter, a bald eagle flew directly overhead across the lake. So I stood up in the kayak and started singing a rousing chorus of 'Proud to Be An American' and promptly flipped the kayak. Okay, that last part wasn't true, but I did see the bald eagle.

5. Speaking of that dreadful song, our friend M just returned from a quick vacation to Branson, MO where she saw a sextet of singers perform at one of the many theaters. At the end of the show, they made the audience stand while they sang "Proud To Be An American." Does that sound a little funky to you, too? I'm all for standing for the national anthem. I'm not at all about ascribing the same sense of respect to a pop song that capitalized on the war in Afghanistan after 9/11. I'm a little crabby about this. Maybe I should just let it go.

6. Work has been tough. Long days and difficult situations. *sigh* I signed up for this? MNMom agreed that I'm too old to be a hooker any more, or at least there is limited niche market for us chubby middle aged types. So, I guess I'll stick it out. I'm grateful to have a job that pays well and where I'm reasonably well liked. I just need to whine about it now and then.

7. I have been crying at estate sales lately. It just started this year. I see these pieces of people's lives that get left behind and tagged with a sticker for 50 cents and I'm just ruined. I particularly have a hard time with family pictures that get put up for sale, or framed degrees, or anything that I imagine was treasured in the lives of the people who lived there. This obviously has something to do with the difficulty my family has had in wrapping up my dad's estate and the drama over stuff. Sad. I miss my parents every day.


kirelimel said...

Glad to have you back! If you hadn't noticed, you were gone through THREE profile photos!! that was a long time, Dorothy!

Estate sales are sad- I look around my own home and ask myself how I would feel about the crap I've collected being a way for people to sum up my life when I'm gone. That will cure you of most impulse buys cause I sure don't want someone saying, "why did this woman buy a ped egg? she must have been crazy!"

the word verification is "bitiesc" which I can only guess is what one becomes in the waning years of life, just before you're an estate sale of your own.

Mnmom said...

2. You were also the perfect hosts.
3. Thanks for the free publicity!
4. How perfect.
5. I hate that song, and WHY would someone go to Branson?
6. We'd be great hookers for someone who needs a companion that likes to lay on the couch and watch movies, oh, and bring me some popcorn while you're up.
7. Me too - sad how fleeting life is. But a good reminder that stuff is just that - stuff.

Little Sister said...

Once again, MG, you have validated why I love you so much. No, no, no, not the toilet stories-although the are amusing in a sick way-but your gratitude for the simplest things and your sensitivity.

What weekends remain open at Club Mike/Curt? Rex and I have some free ones coming up!

suzieQ said...

Hey Mike,
I LOVE to sit at a lake with complete peace and quiet. Remind me to tell you about the pair of otters I saw. Not to nit pick, but are you thinking of Lee Greenwood's Proud to be an American? Doesn't that song predate 9/11? Anyway, neither that one or Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue bother me to hear them, but I think I would draw the line at standing up for them. All I know is that I was a big blubbering mass while Brian and I watched the D-Day coverage live from France on Sat.(6/6) morning. If the image of the elderly veteran sitting with his head in his hands while Pres. Obama spoke didn't make you want to cry your eyes out, nothing would.

Scott J. said...

When Dad J died, my sister wanted someone to sing that Hell's belch of a song at his funeral. Older sister and I were beyond adamant in shooting that stupid idea down. Seriously, if I ever met Lee Greenwood I would kick him in the balls so hard his grandchildren would be sterile.

I don't care how much you love America or Freedom or Wal-Mart - that song is a f%&@ing musical abomination and should be illegal.

There, I said it!

brenda k said...

I am laughing here on one count and kind of sad on the other! Scott - what are you trying to say about Lee Greenwood? Don't be polite now, just say you don't care for him. Its okay! ;)

The other day at work a gal was asking me about my parents, then Mark's parents (dead also) - then a few more things about my life that are equally as dismal story. At one point she just looked at me and said, "Wow, you have really had a lot to bear in your short life."

I thought about that statement much later. While to an outsider, my life on paper probably looks a little down and out I suppose - but I am living it - and I can tell you first hand I am probably one of the happiest people on the planet these days. Happier that I have ever been, in fact.

You truly are a product of your experiences. The one thing I have learned from adversity is that life is not about the load you carry or the weight you are forced to bear. It is simply about how you carry the load.

MG - I have a challenge for you. Next time you wander upon a sale or a thought that makes you sad - force yourself to also find ray of light in that thought. Life is all about balance. Balance out the negative with a positive and somehow things are just a little easier to process and move on from them.

Thats my story and I'm sticking to it....;-)

michaelg said...

SuzieQ- nice to see that you're still alive. Blog, damnit! I guess that song may have been around before 9/11 but he sure cashed a big check after. I won't ever stand for it.
Scott- funeral music is hard to choose, but you made the right choice. I wanted to do a pole dance to Slave the Rhythm by Grace Jones but was vetoed by my siblings. I'll never understand why.
Brenda- you are the white damn Oprah and yes, one might expect that with all the messed up stuff you've been through you might be a sad sack, but you're not and we love you for it. My estate sale sadness makes me think of my parents and that's okay. So, that's a bright spot. When you coming to visit?

Dale said...

This post has it all, my my my! Laughter, tears, skin flakes and boogers! The idea of estate sales sort of make me sad too.