Deuces

Every weekday, Monday thru Friday Lloyd wakes up just before 6 a.m.  Waking up and getting up are 2 different things, of course. The alarm first goes off at about 5:15 a.m.- It's a horrible sound.....  The snooze cycle ensues. Usually he hits snooze, on average, 5 times at 5 minute intervals. We're not sure if it makes any difference at all in his sleep quality, but this is his pattern and he doesn't want it messed with, man. And what baffles me most is that, despite being his day off, he will set the alarm clock for 6 a.m. on Saturdays as well... and he doesn't hit the snooze button. This morning, like many Saturday mornings, he jumped out of bed when that horrible blast of noise emanated from the black clock. He is off to watch "the football". Of course he is referring to 'soccer', but he doesn't call it that.  No sir.  It's his Euro-thing. And I will often ask him why he doesn't just Tivo the games and enjoy a good ...

Tom and Mickie are my aunt and uncle, and I love them so. This blog is for them. Tom is my mom's brother and what I remember most fondly about Tom and Mickie growing up was Christmas day- many, many Christmas days. They had a beautiful home that we went to every year on th 25th.  It was the kind of home I always wanted to have when I grew up... What made their home special was that it was warm.  It felt like the kind of home that was lived in- the kind you can play in, hug in, and run through... and on at least one occasion run SMACK! into the sliding glass door whilst running from a sibling.... Mickie, a nurse, had a million apple symbols and decor throughout their home, paying homage to the phrase that "An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor Away."  When I see apple decor, I think of you, Aunt Mickie. My mother gave my aunt Mickie a gingerbread house one Christmas, and for many subsequent years aunt Mickie would retrieve that gingerbread house from her freezer to...

My dimples and Gemini spirit aren't the only things I got from my dad. Oh no. Like him, I am in El.Oh.Vee.Ee. with coffee. I can even tell you about the VERY first time I had coffee, and how it's all daddy's fault that I fell in love. We were at the Candlelight Pavilion- that dinner theatre in Claremont, Cali.  I was about 8 or 9.  We had finished up with our dinner and at intermission the server came 'round offering bevvies and desserts.  My dad ordered coffee and because it sounded interesting, I ordered coffee, as well. My dad immediately said "No", but it wasn't one of his very firm "No's" so I knew there was wiggle room.  I looked at my mom, who said I could have it and she gave my dad that reassuring look as if to suggest "She won't like it anyway...." And daddy thought about it for a moment and gave-in.  And I just bet dad thought he was so clever and was setting up a Budweiser moment. The Budweiser moment...

I find some things very awkward. Last week as my next door neighbor and I chatted outside my dog walked over to her lawn, squatted on her hinds and pooped.  My neighbor laughed, but I felt like a bad mother as I ran over, bag in hand and followed Penny's poop trail- which always comes in three nuggets because she walks and poos simultaneously.  Doing the walk-and-bend-dance while profusely saying "I'M SOOOO SORRY" was very awkward. It can be very awkward when you are at the gym, notice a man who looks like a Greek God, stare at said Greek God, and then suddenly see your husband watching you watching Brad Pitt, the early years, waltzing by.  The God in this hypothetical scenario has olive skin, weighs in at a very healthy 225, is reaching heights of 6'3" or greater and has on blue and red trackpants that have those buttons down the sides.... you know... the pull-away kind...... .I might or might not be speaking from personal experience.  And I don't ...

Dear Penny, Your farts stink. Seriously, seriously stink. Even more stinky than airplane farts. You haven't ever been on a plane, my little Penny Kravitz, but let me tell you something about airplane farts. Airplane farts usually occur at high altitudes and when the plane is at full capacity.  No one knows from whence the fart came, and most people won't acknowledge it for fear others will see them squirm and assume it was they who dealt it.  I am most certainly not speaking of myself, thankyouverymuch, I'm just trying to make a point. Airplane farts lie still in the air.  The lack of circulation in the cabin gives them the most rancid and putrid smell that, until tonight, I thought could only occur on a 747. You, my Pensacola, hath proved that theory wrong.  You fart when you sleep.  You fart when you cough.  You fart when you are excited.  You fart when you are hungry, and you most certainly fart when you are full. How doe...

My mom and I cleaned out a room. The room Ariel and I painted and decorated a few years ago as a surprise for her. The room that has become the catch all for everything that doesn't fit elsewhere in her home. In that room lies Christmas decorations, luggage, a massage table, books, books, and more books.  There are a dozen Vanity fair magazines and over 300 movies- most of them classics.  There is a record player and those plastic tubs you buy after the holidays in an effort to get organized, only to find that you stuff all kinds of other stuff that has been lost in time. In one of those tubs, tucked away was a letter to my mom, typed nearly 10 years ago.  Dear Mrs. Dorado On behalf of the Inland Eye & Tissue Bank I want to extend my deepest sympathies to you and your family on the loss of your husband, Charles.  I am always touched by the unselfish generosity of people that have just suffered a loss and are still thinking of helping others. I do ...

And in an email from another cousin: When I was young, I am 53 by the way, I remember going to your Grandparent's house, I was really scared of your Grandfather's dogs. My dad and Uncle George (I know some of my cousins called him Uncle "G" but he was always Uncle George to us) would go in the yard so he could show my dad the latest thing he was tinkering on. My mom, my sisters and I would sit and listen to your Grandma tell stories about her everyday life. She was so funny she made us all laugh so much.... When my cousin emailed me this I beamed because, sweet friends, I too love to tell stories about my everyday life.  Generally I find my stories mundane and hope there might be some trinkets of humor interwoven here and there, but to know that my grandmother and I share in that is lovely. And I, like my dad and like his father before him, also love dogs.  I don't ever remember not having a dog growing up.  They were always huge and ominous looking dogs ...

Once upon a time there was a man named Torivio who had a wife named Juana. They decided to move from their home in Juarez, Mexico to the United States. The had many children, their first of whom was a boy. They named their first born son Gomecindo, but most people called him "George". Gomecindo grew up and married a woman named Isabel Vasquez. Gomecindo and Isabel had 8 sons, their third of whom they named "Charles" Charles grew up and married a woman named Corinne. They had many children, one of whom was a girl they named Cambria. Today I am here sharing that part of my family history with you. My great-grandparents, Torivio and Juana passed before I was born. My grandparents passed when I was quite young (aged 5 when my grandmother passed, 10 when my grandfather passed...) and so I never got to fully appreciate what they were like in life and who they were when they were younger. But by the great fortune of meeting extended cousins and family...

So... As it goes... Bullwinkle's was a great time and an even better job... Most of you So-Calians know that Bullwinkle's failed to survive and is now known as "Boomers". In French that is known as La'me.  In English it's called "Lame". Boomers will never know how fun it was to be a part of a struggling business. When you are struggling the employees are the last to know, but when the gauntlet drops we can all totally see why it got the axe. I'm certain the strippers in Dudley's Den didn't help our cause. Oh yes. Strippers. 2 male strippers for my 21st birthday. And when my amigas couldn't quite figure out where to have my surprise party it was Rosie who asked James, the manager, if we could have our party at the restaurant after hours. And not long after the remnants of some toddler's birthday cake was wiped clean from the table were a dozen plus girls waving their hands, clapping enthusiastically and thr...