Yet another reason I have not yet disowned my oldest sister

There are many reasons why you should disown various family members. All of them are valid. Trust me. But today I am feeling positive. So instead of the litany I will, instead, provide you with this little gem that my big sis sent to me today.

I rear ended a car this morning...
I knew it was going to be a REALLY bad day.
The driver got out of the other car, and he was a DWARF!
He looked up at me and said, "I am NOT happy".
I said, "Well, which one ARE you then?"
That's when the fight started!!!

SO, Lisa, you can stay. But don't press your luck! Love is, after all, rather finite.

xoxo
e
p.s. And if you send me the midget slave with any more stupid piercings...DEALS OFF!!

I Love wd 40! Do you?

200 glorious uses for WD 40 (or is it nectar of gods?)
I think my personal favorite use is Removes lipstick from carpets
that's 120 for you lazy people

of course Removes rollerblade marks from kitchen floor is also a personal favorite...

Choose your favorite and happy lubrication!

1. Use to loosen rusty nuts and screws, clean garden tools
2. Cleans piano keys
3. Keeps wicker chairs from squeaking
4. Lubricates small rolling toys
5. Keeps garden tools rust-free
6. Cleans patio door glide strip
7. Removes crayon from clothes dryer (make sure to unplug dryer first)
8. Removes scuff marks from ceramic tile floor
9. Keeps metal wind chimes rust-free
10. Removes crayon from walls
11. Helps join plastic shelving to make disassembly easier
12. Removes water spots from mirrors
13. Lubricates hinge on pruning shears
14. Lubricates screws on lawn furniture
15. Lubricates hydraulic rams on slideout of 5th wheel
16. Cleans fiberglass bathtubs
17. Cleans and prevents rust on oil tank exterior
18. Cleans and protects bed of wheelbarrows
19. Prevents rust on swamp cooler nuts
20. Removes tea stains from countertops
21. Removes crayon from wallpaper
22. Lubricates gate locks
23. Removes crayon from carpet
24. Removes tape marks from the wall where posters hung
25. Shines leaves of artificial houseplants
26. Keeps snow from sticking to shovel
27. Removes coffee stains on floor tiles
28. Keeps hose ends from corroding
29. Lubricates moving parts on playground equipment
30. Removes crayon from plastic
31. Removes decals from bathtubs
32. Removes old cellophane tape
33. Removes crayon from shoes
34. Cleans ashtrays
35. Removes crayon from toys
36. Cleans and protects underside of cast iron skillets
37. Removes ink from carpet
38. Keeps garden plant cages bright and rust free
39. Cleans lawnmower blades
40. Cleans and protects antique kitchen tools
41. Prevents mildew growth on fountain
42. Removes marks from floors left by chair feet
43. Removes crayon from chalk boards
44. Eliminates static on volume and tuning control knobs
45. Cleans candle soot
46. Removes ink from blue jeans
47. Cleans residue on luggage handles
48. Cleans old muffin tins
49. Cleans and protects pruning shears
50. Cleans gold-plated faucets
51. Removes petroleum stains from clothing
52. Keeps sewing needles from rusting
53. Removes Kool-Aid stains from carpet and fabric
54. Removes gunk from plastic dish-drainer
55. Lubricates kitchen sink handheld spray nozzle
56. Removes rust from curtain rods
57. Removes adhesive from precious china
58. Cleans bottoms of pots and pans
59. Helps prevent rust on hide-a-key containers
60. Cleans vinyl garage doors
61. Cleans doggie doo from tennis shoes
62. Removes gunk when replacing old faucets
63. Cleans and protects medicine door latches
64. Protects wrought iron from rust
65. Removes tomato stains from clothes
66. Prevents rust from forming on washing machines
67. Keeps metal wire screens rust free
68. Removes blue baked-on acrylic cover shields from acrylic windows
69. Preventative maintenance on cooking burner
70. Removes coffee stains from leather
71. Protects electric pump on furnace
72. Removes ink stains from leather
73. Prevents corrosion on copper parts of fountain
74. Lubricates folding parts of ironing board
75. Removes rust from chair feet
76. Cleans and polishes gold and brass lamps
77. Removes adhesive price tag from shoe bottoms
78. Keeps trigger on glue gun from sticking
79. Cleans bed frame
80. Protects shower heads from rust
81. Protects silver from blackening
82. Lubricates external pivots on lawnmowers
83. Keeps blades from rusting on garden plow
84. Cleans black streaks from hardwood floors
85. Protects inner machinery in toilet against corrosion
86. Removes paint from tile flooring
87. Protects hand trowels from corrosion
88. Cleans and protects pitchforks
89. Lubricates screen channels upon installation of rubber bead
90. Removes rust stains from bathroom tubs
91. Cleans metal figurines
92. Shines shower doors
93. Protects patio door from sun damage
94. Cleans mildew from refrigerator gasket
95. Helps clean rust from wire shelves
96. Cleans newspaper ink from tables
97. Removes rust stains from floor after mopping
98. Cleans and protects TV antenna
99. Removes gum from wallpaper
100. Penetrates and frees stuck toilet shutoff valve
101. Spray on rototiller blades to prevent rust during off-season
102. Cleans melted vacuum belt from carpeting
103. Removes crayon from television screen
104. Lubricates zippers on lawn mower grass catcher bags
105. Cleans gunk from chain saws
106. Prevents rust on metal patio chairs
107. Removes crayon marks from glass
108. Camouflages scratches in cultured marble
109. Removes berry stains from patio furniture
110. Removes gum stuck to concrete
111. Cleans heavy dirt from shovels
112. Cleans rust from metal exterior of speakers
113. Coat outside pipes during winter to help prevent freezing damage or pipe bursts
114. Removes glue deposits from linoleum
115. Lubricates hinges on antique smoking stand
116. Removes masking tape residue from linoleum
117. Cleans gunk built up on doorknobs
118. Removes stickers from credit cards
119. Cleans smoke stains
120. Removes lipstick from carpet
121. Lubricates metal latches on chain link fences
122. Removes melted scotch tape from dining room table
123. Removes stains from coffee cups
124. Removes crayon from screen doors
125. Removes crayon from plastic tables
126. Removes oil stains from nylon
127. Spray on hula hoe swivels to clean & prevent corrosion
128. Lubricates air holes before inserting hand air pump nozzle onto tires
129. Keeps lawnmower wheels turning smoothly
130. Keeps plant supports from rusting
131. Removes gum from linoleum floor
132. Removes strawberry stains from countertops
133. Removes tar from shovels
134. Keeps plant hangers from rusting
135. Removes mascara from tile floors
136. Erases marks caused by chair backs on running boards of wall
137. Spray on silverware during unused periods to prevent tarnishing
138. Clean black marks from shoes off the floor
139. Removes labels from medicine bottles
140. Removes wax from shoes
141. Cleans chair wheels
142. Cleans window sills
143. Protects snow shovels from the effects of salt
144. Cleans and protects washer lid
145. Prevents corrosion on outdoor light fixtures
146. Removes felt pen marks from floor
147. Loosens valve stems on lawnmower tires
148. Removes gum from aluminum siding
149. Removes wax from vinyl surfaces
150. Lubricates mixer gears
151. Removes rollerblade marks from kitchen floor
152. Adds moisture to and preserves ivory and bone items
153. Keeps lawn mower carburetors free of gunk
154. Removes Velcro stickers
155. Polishes away scratches on countertops
156. Lubricates vacuum cleaner roller brush
157. Cleans gunk from base of toilet bowl
158. Lubricates runners on porch glider
159. Cleans roofing tar off circular saw blades
160. Protects exposed metal parts on snow blowers
161. Removes sticker residue from clothes
162. Removes gum from flagpoles
163. Keeps clay from sticking to shovels
164. Prevents rake from rusting
165. Removes laundry detergent stain from washer
166. Polishes splash guards
167. Cleans crayon off of rock walls
168. Lubricates ball valve handle on sprinkler system
169. Lubricates return springs on riding lawnmowers
170. Keeps kitty-doo from sticking to electric cat-box rakes
171. Removes dried toothpaste stains
172. Removes silly putty from furniture
173. Cleans lime stains from toilet bowls
174. Spray on bottom 6 inches of wooden patio table to prevent mildew build up
175. Removes glue from refrigerator
176. Helps clean showers
177. Cleans build up on hedge trimmers
178. Lubricates gardening shears
179. Cleans dog hair from sliding door rollers
180. Removes marks-a-lot ink from most items
181. Removes rust from cookie tins
182. Keeps flower pots from sticking together when stacked in storage
183. Removes gum from dryer lint screen
184. Cleans tar from rubber water hoses
185. Removes scuff marks from lawn furniture
186. Removes rust stains from tile floors
187. Lubricates lever on razor scraper
188. Removes lipstick from fabric
189. Cleans and lubricates the rubber surrounds on stereo sub woofers
190. Spray down drain throat to remove scum
191. Removes crayon from place mats
192. Removes stubborn body oils and shampoo residue from bath mats
193. Spray around bottom of garbage cans to prevent animals from getting in
194. Removes oxidation from aluminum window frames
195. Polishes and protects brass candlesticks
196. Cleans music racks
197. Cleans peanut butter from shoestrings
198. Cleans and protects blades of pruning shears
199. Cleans wood planter bed
200. Cleans scum from rubber gloves

Please visit Wise Bread

Are you virgin enough for virgin america

Well, are you? Yeah, me neither. (sorry dad)

New today on tales from the pit...Well wasting time on the world wide waste of time today I was performing my customary search of available flight attendant jobs. You know, to make sure that no one has one that is better than mine. I came across the best line of a job ad that I have ever seen.

Are you virgin enough for virgin america?

Does that come in a T-shirt anyone?

Powered by ScribeFire.

Things that I know that you should (A love story)

Dear you,

There are many things that you know that I should. But I obviously don't know them and so can not write about them, now can I? So, I find myself left only with what I know as you, rudely I might add, seem unwilling or unable to tell me what you know. So, you see, in the end everything is really your own fault. Not mine. But I still love you. I mean really, who doesn't secretly love a jealous mistress that bites?

love the bruises,
e

(that was the love story part)


Okay. Now to business, you slackers.

Things I know that you should
Most of which I learned while road tripping this past weekend


Thing one

When the creepy worker at McDonald's simply insists on conversing with you, even though he can plainly see that you would are trying to anonymously stuff your face in peace, DO NOT TALK BACK!! I mean it. Feign deafness or deadness, whatever works for you. But do not under any circumstances acknowledge his presence! Do not, for example, start feeling bad and assuming that you have to chat back because you think he is probably retarded. He isn't. He is just really really creepy. He will, again for example, stare longingly at your toes and ask why you aren't wearing high heels. And then he will ask you why you aren't a model and offer to take nude photos of you.

If you never ever take any other piece of advice that I give take this. Trust Me.

Thing two

Never EVER find yourself trapped for 14 hours in a putrescent smelling stadium with 20,000 other singers 19,995 of which fancy themselves R&B magicians. Trust me. This is just not good for soul and torture on the ears and mind. And really, singers don't even like singers, so why should you?

This, of course, brings me to thing three...

Thing Three

Ryan Seacrest is really, really short. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you know this. You watch The Soup. You, too, are massively in love with Joel McHale. But as short as he is, white chicks under the age of 22 are absolutely enthralled by him. Do not accidentally find yourself anywhere between him and them. They will savagely cut you down and not even smudge their over made up little acne covered faces. It's frightening. He really should bottle whatever it is and sell it. We could call it Ryan Juice. Mmm mmm gross. As I have sold my soul to the FOX corporation I am unable to tell you much else. For Now...

Thing Four

If a cute young girl adopts you at an audition and keeps telling you how sophisticated you look and that she hopes she looks as good as you in ten years when she is your age, what she is really telling you is that you are old and probably should retire already because everyone knows that it is her time to rule the world and not at all her fault that you didn't accomplish everything that you wanted before your time was up.

.

Thing Five

If it smokes like a chimney, is painted like a psychedelic easter egg,
has hair that defies all laws of gravity and nature, is surrounded by
frightening tomes on witchcraft and spells and mistrusts anyone that
hasn't ever lived in Montreal, DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CHARM IT. It HATES
YOU. It probably works at McDonald's and you don't even know it.

Thing Six
Sushi is probably not a car food. I guess that's why there aren't any drive through sushi stands, huh?

Thing Six

It is perfectly wonderful to take yourself on a romantic little weekend all by yourself. Who do you love more than yourself, right? Stay in a cute little inn in the country, take yourself out for a lovely little meal. Pretend that no one else exists in all the world. Laugh at your own jokes, they are the best, right? Get a little drunk and take advantage of yourself.


XOXO,
e

Powered by ScribeFire.

Food For Thought

Do any of you find it crazy that my company spends about twice what they pay me every month in transporting me from place to place to begin work?

Unfair much?

Give me money, Damnit!

Powered by ScribeFire.

Poison Ivy Blows, Trust me

In case you were in a state of doubt or maybe mere ambivalence: POISON IVY BLOWS!!!

I know this as I currently have it all over my face. My eyes are puffy pools of pugnacious pustules. My mouth all a twitch with the itchies. I am perfectly hideous. Children stop and stare. Adults pretend that I don't exist. For one as ceaselessly vain as I, this is a trial of enormous proportion. I'm a damned flight attendant, for god sakes! Of course I am vain!

But on the up-side, I have an excellent reason to call out of work this month!


Pity me, don't fear me...

e

Powered by ScribeFire.

Die Yuppie Scum, DIe!

Yes, yes, yes. I get it. You ARE a preferred flier. You have a zillion, billion, million frequent flier miles. You could go to mars first class and not pay a dime. If only the fool airline would start scheduled service to mars. Don't they know that Mars is the next Vegas? Well, they would, if only they would listen to you. There loss, eh?

You would quit flying them all together if any other, more reasonable airline would flew to 'the asshole of Satan,' Georgia where your boss, who doesn't possibly appreciate your gifts as they should be appreciated, insists on sending you biweekly simply because he is a bastard who likes to watch you sweat like a pig in the liquid fire summer heat. But, alas, nobody else does so you are stuck.

But if this damn airline thinks that they are going to push you around, they sure don't know you very well!

First you'll turn pink and unfocused with rage and then you will loudly explain how important your business is to this crap ass, miserable excuse for an airline all the while wildly waving your arms like an overweight ballerina in a geriatric community theater production. than will show em!

And then you will stomp about like a pinstriped baby elephant and while snorting vehemently unintelligible unkindnesses at whoever seems to be paying attention like a pregnant rhinoceros in the midst of birthing septuplets.

Oh yeah! You are SO very important! Let it all out! Let the world know. Wave it like a fricking flag!

But wait, what is it coming down the waves? Is it...no...it couldn't possibly be! Why yes it is.

It's a NEWSFLASH:

Okay, I know that you won't believe me, but I still feel obligated to tell you. Nobody prefers you. And I mean NOBODY. Nobody even really likes you. Certainly not your flight attendants. Probably not even your parents. You know why your boss really keeps sending you to 'the asshole of Satan,' Georgia? Because he HATES you. You should just accept this as a certainty or a just punishment for your blatant and profound ass-ishness. You are an asshole. You must be punished.

Now I'd like to provide you with a list of reasons your flight attendants hate you. You know, for your own good and all.

One: You, with all your free upgrades to first class are the most miserable and demanding passenger ever invented. We see you as a punishment from an angry judeo-christian god for drinking and partying too much on long layovers. That's why most of us quickly become agnostics. It's just easier. You can imagine how unbearable your personality would be when we have a hangover.

Two: Generally you are married. We know this because we can see your lily white ring tan on the finger that your wedding band sometimes lives. We generally notice this as you are asking us to meet you for a drink later on at out destination city. What you are really wondering is whether or not we will sleep with you. The answer is no. Have you seen yourself in the mirror. You really should consider naming that beer belly. it's officially at the size where it commands respect of its own. Congratulations on that.

Three: You are often a raging alcoholic. Not that many of us aren't. But we generally make pleasant drunks. It's just the customer service employee way. But you, you insist on ignoring the affects of alcohol at altitude. You get drunk and snore and demand every manner of weirdness. And finally, when your poor flight attendant invents a reasonable sounding excuse to cut you off the sauce with out offending you, you holler at her and start your preferred customer rant all over again.

I think that I am starting to develop a twitch from not rolling my eyes at you for so many hours. And no, my insurance does not cover this.

(Here's a shout out to all you underpaid, overworked waitresses, bartenders, hotel front desk employees and airline gate agents who deal with you on your interminable, unavoidable business trips. You are loved!)


From all of us to you I would like to say: You Suck!


e

Technorati Tags: Frequent Fliers, Flight Attendants, Airline

Powered by ScribeFire.

Wee! You can't catch me! I'll be in Paris

Wee! You can't catch me! I'll be in Paris!

Sorry, I just really couldn't resist. Once in a while my job just ROCKS! In the next week I will spend a miniscule amout of time in Paris and a whole heaping bit of it in Santa Monica.

Envy me. You know you want to. Screw that! Worship me! I am worthy.

peace out, my homefries!

Air Crew Humor

Southerners can be so polite!

Atlanta Air Traffic Control: "Tower to Saudi Air 911 -- You are cleared to land eastbound on runway 9R."

Saudi Air: "Thank you Atlanta ATC. Acknowledge cleared to land on infidel's runway 9R - Allah be Praised.

Atlanta ATC: "Tower to Iran Air 711 --You are cleared to land westbound on runway 9R."

Iran Air: "Thank you Atlanta ATC. We are cleared to land on infidel's runway 9R. - Allah is Great.

Pause:
Static..

Saudi Air: "ATLANTA ATC - ATLANTA ATC"

Atlanta ATC: "Go ahead Saudi Air 911?"

Saudi Air: "YOU HAVE CLEARED BOTH OUR AIRCRAFT FOR THE SAME RUNWAY GOING IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS. WE ARE ON A COLLISION COURSE. INSTRUCTIONS, PLEASE.

Atlanta ATC: Well bless your hearts and praise Jesus. Y'all be careful now and tell Allah "hey" for us -- ya hear?

I am a Library Terrorist! Be Afraid!

I am a Library Terrorist! Be Afraid!

Or at least that is how I feel as the scary library ladies look me up and down and then up again. You see, I owe them money. I always owe them money. I think that they are prepared to take a contract out on my head if I do not pay them their money. All $18 of it.

Yes, I know, you have to be rather over due to accrue 18 bucks worth of library fines. You, you old slave driver, probably even think that their ire is rather appropriate. But think about for a minute if you will.

I am a freaking international charter flight attendant who is often out of the country far longer than the allotted 2 weeks. Cut me some god damn slack, already!

I mean really, is it really necessary to glare at me as if I am public enemy number one every time that I enter the library? Can't you just take my cash gracefully and SHUT UP about it?

Screw You! You mean old library lady!

The ass hole of Satan

I am currently living in the asshole of satan.

How, you ask, could you possibly know that?

Well, let me tell you, it's not exactly something that you can easily misinterpret. Aside from the "welcome to the asshole of satan" sign that hangs just inside the city limits, there are multiple other give aways.

For instance: The heat. It is about ten thousand degrees here. And it is not a dry heat, let me tell you. It is a sticky, stinky, get in between your ears and screw up your wiring sort of heat. It's that sort of a heat that no rain storm relieves. It never cools off! The heat is as constant at 4 in the morning as it is at 2 in the afternoon.

And the airport! I bet you never thought that satan's asshole had an airport, did you? It's horrifying! A tiny building with out door walkways that are 2 miles long to get to baggage claim and the taxi stand. Now, if it wasn't really satan's asshole the air conditioning would most assuredly work properly here and there would be NO outdoor walk ways as it is typically a zillion degrees outside in the summer. But No!

You see, incontrovertible proof that I am indeed in the asshole of satan. And I thought jews didn't go to hell! Well that sucks!

e

Oh, my family. How I love them. Who else would!

From the Left: Baby Monster, Joe, Big Sis Lisa, Midget Slave

Bad, bad, me

I have been a very bad blogger!

I know this. I apologize. Profusely.

The month of June was a gorgeously busy month. It was a month spent traveling all over creation. I spent 10 days in Italy in a tiny cliffside villa in a tiny fishing village on the Amalfi Coast. Then I traveled on a night train to Frankfurt, Germany and flew home to NY. I spent aproxiamtely 36 hours at home with ross and the puppies before heading off to the Bahamas for a weekend of bridesmaid hell.

Bridezilla!!!!!! I'll leave it at that.

And then, home to NY for 2 days and off to Germany for a bit for work. Unfortunately, they sometimes require that I work for my paycheck. I truly and deeply hate them for that.

And worry not, gentle readers, pictures to follow after this weekend!

Thanks for sticking with me!

e

Secret Admirer

I have a secret admirer. Well, it's not a secret that I have and admirer, duh. It's just his identity that's a secret, you silly people!

How do I know this, you ask? He left an anonymous note under the left windshield wiper of my car. How do you remember that it is the left, you ask? I don't know, I just do. I have a wonderful mind for mundane details. It's a gift.

It's always lovely to be admired. What good taste my secret admirer has! But how, exactly, does he know exactly what car I drive and where I park it? That's the alarming part, now isn't it.

"Okay, okay chill out, oh paranoid one," you might say. "Remember that there is an alarmingly colorful Sponge Bob Square Pants sheet covering your entire back seat. And remember that your car is held together mostly with tape and paint? That isn't really the way to car anonymity, now is it?"

Yes, yes, I'll grant you this. All true, all true. But how does he know this? Especially as I often park two blocks away from the alleged place we supposedly once met. But, of course, I often snag the spot right outside the damn front door as well. Hmmmmm.

Stalker or admirer. Who can tell.

If you do hear that I have been chopped into pieces and found wrapped up all snug and dead please send them after my admirer.

Oh wait. You can't really, can you? His identity is a secret. Shhhhhh...

Grammar

Dear readers,

It has come to my attention that my grammar sucks. For this I apologize. I blame it on everything but myself. But primarily, I blame it on the automatic spelling error correction feature on my word processing program and my lack of patience to police it. Damn you, computer! For your enjoyment have included a portion of the email my mother recently sent to me to bring this to my attention. She is, of course, the goddess of proper English. And this is yet another reason I love her. She is a god. And she's damn smart! Enjoy.

e

Notes from Mom:

Dear E:

"Okay. I really enjoy your blog. I just read it. I understand about dorky men. HOWEVER, I feel compelled to point out some persistent grammar/spelling issues that are becoming reoccurring.

site/sight - place/vision

there/they're/their - place/contraction/possession

to/too - location/also

I do REALLY enjoy your blog. I am just a mother/frustrated proofreader/literary admirer.

If this writing style is indicative of your new, relaxed syntax, please disregard the above editing as the ravings of a syncophant (sic?) with no sense of humor. If, however, your literary muscles are weakening for lack of guidance, please, considered yourself newly guided."

lubya,
mom

Dorky Men

What is it about dorky men? I just want to hug them. It's this unreasonable urge that I am always having to hold myself back from. Most men, I find perfectly resistible. Pretty men, yeah, there nice and all. But what girl wants a boy to be prettier than they are? Not me, I'm way to vain for that. And I know that there are lots of girls out there that love the big, hulking, I can lift you over my head without even breathing hard kind of men, but they're not for me either. I want my man obsessed with my boobs, not his own!


Those who know me well, they know that I'm not particularly cuddly. So this hugging thing is a little, no a lot, out of character for me. It may sound innocuous, maybe harmless to you, but don't be fooled. This one time, I was staying at a hotel that was hosting a Dungeons and Dragons convention. Dork City. The oft denied urge to hug almost sent me into fits. Not a pretty site!

Self Denial really sucks!

My Mommy!

My mommy is so smart. My mommy is so pretty. Your mommy ain't got nothing on mine!

Happy Mothers Day, mommy!

In honor of my mom, I would like to present to you, dear readers, some sage little gems of experience, love, and wisdom that my mom has given me, over the years.

Mommy gem number one:

And I quote: “If it's a gift, gift wrap it!” As stated via post-it stuck to the dining room table to my 22 year old brother on her way out of town. She had no illusions of keeping the girlfriend out. At 15, I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. I remember the exact moment, about two years later, that it finally made sense. The advice, though not directly meant for me at the time has served me well. So thank you mom!

Mommy Gem number two:

Again, I quote: “ Don't get married. Live in Sin.” Yes, you read that correctly. My catholic born and bred Puerto Rican mommy has told all of us girls and boy this repeatedly and frequently throughout our entire adolescence and adulthood. Now, now, calm your outrage! There is a back story.

My mom grew up poor. My mom grew up poor and Puerto Rican in Brooklyn, NY. Marriages were made young. Babies, too, were made young. Too young. My mom wanted more than that for us. She put herself through school with two young children in her early twenties as a single mom. She remembers what it is to be skinny not because you work at it but because you don't have enough to eat. She never wanted us to know that.

Now, of course, at 27 and having lived in sin with the venerable Ross for nearly eight years, I am sure she is ready to sing a different tune, but that's a story for a different day, isn't it?

Mommy Gem number three:

“Always go pee after sex. It cleans the toxins out of your bladder. Boys are naturally dirty, it's not there fault. Trust me, your bladder will thank you.” This she said to my 21 year old self and my college roommate Keri over drinks at a hotel bar in Albany, NY. Both Keri and I thank her for this.

Mommy Gem number four:

“EPIDURAL”. Not that I have yet had an opportunity to demand one. But I have every intention of utilizing it when the time is right. Natural childbirth is for the birds!

Mommy Gem number five:

“Love doesn't just come to you. It isn't magic. You have to reach out and grab it and fight for it. Never let it go. Work for it. Earn it.”

Mommy never said this, exactly, but she lives it. And I understand this and I try to live it, too. With the exception of her love. Amazingly enough, I get that for free! Even when I don't deserve it. For that, mom, I thank you. I love you, mom!

Happy Mothers Day

e

The Moon

The world just looks different by moonlight. I sit high up in a tower, okay, it's really just an upper floor of a nondescript foreign hotel, but where's the romance in that? Just out of my window looms a gorgeous white mosque. It almost appears to glow. And maybe it was built for just this, to be seen by moonlight by a foreign girl staring dreamily out from her tower alternately swaying gently and rubbing her tired calves after a days work. And Bill Evans and Miles Davis are playing Blue and Green but it feels as if it's a private concert and not just the tinny sound coming out of her crappy speakers. And did I mention the moon is full? And that the music is making her feel all melty and boneless. Sometimes the moon will trick you into seeing what isn't really there. Or, maybe more truthfully, it'll allow you to see more than really exists. The moon can do that, you know. Bill Evans and the light of a full moon on foreign soil, it can definitely do that to a girl.

Things I've learned recently through trial and error

Things I've learned recently through trial and error

School is cool and all that shit, blah, blah, blah. We all sing its praises and secretly look down our noses at those who drop out, never to finish. But really, kids, what have you learned recently in school that you find so very useful in your every day tormented existence?

Me, I think that student enrollment in the the school of hard knocks: Trial and Error is about to have a renaissance. And I nominate me for it's latest band leader. In hopes of garnering all of your lovely votes, my friends, I leave you with a list of things I have learned recently through a fair amount of Trial and a huge amount of error.

Let's start with the trial portion. Everyone loves a good trial right?

I like onions. Okay, I LOVE onions. Ross says that I put them in nearly everything. He is afraid that I will one day find the perfect onion dessert. When that day arrives he has informed me that we will have to break up. And that it will be solely my fault. Onion dessert is just a line that he can not cross over and return from. I get this. Everyone has there limit, right? There proverbial line in the sand, if you will.

Okay, back to onions. I bet you thought I forgot! Yeah, I know I do that sometimes.

As much as I love to eat them, who likes cutting them? NOT ME! I cry like a Baptist church lady at a summer tent revival. You know, “Jesus, he loves you! He even forgives your shitty fashion sense!,” says the minister. “Blather, sob, sniffle, cry!, “ says the baptist church lady all the while sweating profusely through her taupe colored pantyhose and flowered tea length church dress. I call this waterfall of gastronomic onion tears “Church Lady Syndrome.” You get the idea.

As I have never been much a fan of the church lady wardrobe, I see it as a huge priority to end the suffering of Church Lady Syndrome Sufferers everywhere. So through much trial, I have learned two, yes count them, two entirely different yet equally brilliant ways of ending CLS for good. Okay, this is probably bizarre to picture but run with me on this one.

Technique 1

Ski Goggles! No, I am not joking. Yes, I know, it looks ridiculous. But when I take them off my mascara stills look fabulous! (Not like yours which is probably smeared all the way to your knees, you doubty poseurs!)

Technique 2

Candles! Lite a candle right next to the onion that you are cutting and cut away. I don't know why this works, but I assume that it's because the fire burns off the oniony tear making shit.

Why, you might ask, would anybody opt for the ski goggle technique that requires you to wander about your kitchen looking stupid when you can just light a pretty scented candle and save your dignity all at the same time? Well, for one, do you enjoy your kitchen reeking of the combined scents of French vanilla mixed with onion? Me, personally, I kind of like it (back to the oniony dessert idea, I guess), but those who know me know that I'm a little off. Most people find it kind of gross. Back to the ski goggles!

Moving on to Error

There are many many reasons why you should love jalapeño peppers. But, not so strangely, there are even more reason why you should not rub it into your eyes. Or your nose! Definitely not your nose!

Just this very week I have learned why people wear gloves when cutting jalapeños. When I saw them on TV programs I just thought that they were sissies. Now I know the truth: that they are immeasurably wise, and more than likely students of Trial and Error!

La, la, la. I'm singing in the kitchen on the top of my lungs. “It's De Lovely!!!!” Everyone loves Cole Porter, right? And I'm making veggie chili. Both are pretty normal occurrences in my kitchen. I sing I cook. It drives Ross nuts! So, I have these fancy jalapeños in the fridge and they are just screaming”Put me in your chili, oh fabulous, singing chef! Use me!” And I, being the beneficently, beautiful, bodacious, babe, ahem...I mean chef, but who can resist an adventurous alliteration...that I am, I grab those suckers out of the pit that is my ancient fridge and chop em up all nice and pretty and throw them in. The chili is cooking away steeping itself all up into its chili goodness and I'm reading a book trying to take my mind off of my growly belly. And do you know what happens? My eye begins to itch. And nobody like an itchy eye! So, of course I reach up to rub the itchies away.

Oh the sting! The horrible, horribly horrible sting! At present, there exist no words to acceptably even begin to convey the horror of this EYE STING!

So, the shock eventually wears off and look at that, .just in time to eat some of that yummy chili. I mean, really, is it the chilis fault that the jalapeño made such and eye sting? Why punish the chili, right? So I, being the rational entirely reasonable girl that you know me to be do what any other rational, reasonable and very hungry girl would do. I WASH MY HANDS THOUROUGHLEY! And I eat my chili. And all is right with the world. NOT!

About and hour passes. The chili is on its way to chili heaven, or if you're not overly religious like me, to wherever atheist chili eaters send there chili. And what happens? My NOSE itches! And, like itchy eyes, NOBODY likes an itchy nose! So, I think nothing of itching away the nose itchies.

URGH!!!! Nose Fire! I think that my nose is actually on fire! Burning!!!! Didn't I wash my hands and hour ago? Why is this happening! Does God HATE ME? Is this his way of telling me that he hates me?

You get the picture.

I hope you can learn from my trials and errors. Why make your own when you can live vicariously through mine, right?

You know, I originally wrote this as a allegorical cautionary tale for you, my favorite readers. But I have only now begun to realize that I, too, have learned ever so more than I thought possible. For instance, I have realized that I have an obsession with Church Ladies. This just can't be normal, or health. And also, my fridge has way, way, too many zucchinis in it. Just because they are on sale does not mean that you should buy all of them in the state!

I have lovely toes! They are perfect and painted pink. Not a barbie pink, nor are they a ballerina pink. They are, in fact, the perfect shade of Starburst Fruit Chew strawberry candy pink! Perfect, I tell you.

I have searched the world long and hard to find the perfect shade of Starburst Fruit Chew strawberry candy pink. In fact, I think that the quest might have played a much larger role than I earlier acknowledged in my becoming a flight attendant. Yes, it is true. Sir Lancelot has his Holy Grail, and I, erika m, have my perfect toes. Life is rather random that way, isn't it?

But somehow, I feel a little empty now. I am in Fort Lauderdale, FL alone with my perfect toes. By all rights I should be over the moon, ecstatic. Yet all is not well. You see, on those long lonely nights that lie ahead, I have nothing to strive for. Success comes to me so easily it's almost not worth trying. When the perfect shade of Starburst Fruit Chew strawberry candy pink nail polish that you have traveled to all ends of the earth suddenly finds you in a strip mall nail salon in an atlanta suburb, it just doesn't feel like true success.

You see, that same perfect shade of Starburst Fruit Chew strawberry candy pink nail polish eluded me in the Grand Bazzare in Istanbul, and it swam just out of reach on the shores of Guam. It Hula'd twisitily out of my grasp in Hawaii and sang me a polka safely tucked out of reach on a the balcony of a beer garden in Leipzig. Always I have searched valiantly! Allways I have failed dramatically.

Did it have to be a strip mall? I kind of feel cheated, you know?

e