TCB4EAP

Thirty years ago today, I was sitting in a GAS LINE ('member those?) at a service station in Houston when we heard on the radio that Elvis had permanently left the building. I've spoken of my love for E here and here and probably somewhere else, too, but today, as I sit here in my Tribute to The King t-shirt, I just want to share this.

Long live The King, and God bless all those poor sweaty bastards at Graceland.

Wash That Guilt Right Outta My Hair

I did it. For the first time in nearly eight years, I decided I needed, nay, deserved, a few minutes alone, and I LOCKED the bathroom door while I took a shower. What is it about my weekly (yes) shower that brings about such urgent issues as a lost tap shoe, a dead bug under the couch, or a strange cat walking across our front yard? Especially when there is a non-showering adult in the next room that can surely handle any and all of these "emergencies?" I just needed to rest my brain - and my vocal chords - for five minutes, and guess what? The house didn't burn down. The family was just as I left them, picking out PJs and bedtime books. And the world kept spinning round and round. So don't judge.

In addition, all is really right in T-Bone's little corner of the world as he is the proud owner of brand new Big Ass TV, AND we met a real live NASA physicist this weekend who promised to take us on a behind-the-scenes tour the next time we're in Houston. She's a real uppity-up over there and has all kinds of security clearance, so they spent the better part of Saturday talking missions past and future, trajectories, and, of course, space diapers. He had a ball and was really glad I dragged him to spend a day in the country with my crazy ass family.

So just look at me and T-Bone, doing it for ourselves up in this mutha.

In The News

A couple of items that caught my eye recently:

Reason # 4527 I Love This GD Town

A state trooper was being interviewed about an accident involving a naked driver and her naked passenger, a first for him, and he said, " But she's from Austin, and I figure Austin folks are a little different."

Reason # 862 I Love Criminal Law

I've observed some incredible defense lawyers, but this guy is a legend, and if I'd known he was in the area, I would've gone to gawk. How can you not love this strategy: "Say you sue me because you say my dog bit you. Well, now this is my defense: My dog doesn't bite. And second, in the alternative, my dog was tied up that night. And third, I don't believe you really got bit. And fourth, I don't have a dog."

Alpha Bravo Charlie

T-Bone is so good about taping all kinds of documentaries and specials from all those smartypants educational channels in an effort to further build our children's brains. He scans the schedule every Sunday and then previews whatever he tapes before sharing it with Peach and Olive. I've learned more about history in the 12 years I've known him than in all my years of schoolin', and Peach especially loves watching the shows and discussing them afterward. She's a sponge, y'all. It's so awesome.

T-Bone has a particular interest in the space program, so we've seen quite a few things on that subject, and I've decided something: I love all that astronaut lingo. Like, Roger this, copy that. Go, no go. T minus 5, 4, 3 ... You know what I mean. Sorta military, sorta not. From now on, I think I'm going to start saying, "We're go for launch!" every time I back out of the driveway. Because I am just that GD cool.

(Insert Some Witty Title That Ties This Shit Together Because I'm Spent, Y'all)

As if it's not bad enough that The Blogging Muse, that bitch, has packed up and left me this summer, now I'm getting berated in my comments for not posting this week. Well, if you lived the thrill-a-friggin-minute life I lead, you'd be slacking, too, pal. Por ejemplo:

Last weekend's trip didn't pan out exactly as I'd planned, seeing as one of my in-laws' best friends died unexpectedly on Friday morning, and Peach was right there in the thick of things when T-Bone's mom got the call. We lit out of here as quick as we could and arrived to find Peach handling everything very well. She had had a "ladies' lunch" with T-Bone's mom and several of her friends, including the dear woman who died, just the day before, so she was understandably shocked (as we all were) and sad (ditto), but the poor baby was hanging in there like a champ. I was SO glad to see her.

The whirlwind trip was just enough to distract me from the fact that I was late, like, you know, LATE. Very late. Because you asked, I'm a 23 day cycle girl, so, yes, I get the pleasure of being a complete bitch every three weeks, instead of four. So you can imagine when Day 35(!) rolled around, I was ready to explode. The best part was when I called my doc and talked to the nurse:

LT: Hi, (nurse). I'm 12 days late, and I thought if I called, it would inevitably get things moving. I'm not pregnant.
Nurse: Well, are you pregnant?
LT: Again, I'm not pregnant. Just REALLY late. And cranky.
Nurse: Have you taken a test?
LT: Five since Day 26. All negative. I'm not pregnant.
Nurse: Because we could do bloodwork. Because the tests might be wrong.
LT: They're not. I'm not pregnant.
Nurse: Well, hmmm. Are you sure you counted right?
LT: Yes. Usually I'm somewhere around 23 days so ...
Nurse: 23! Oh my god! Are you sure you're counting right?
LT: (ok, so this part was only in my head) Well, let's see. I've been menstruating for 25 years now, I've berfed two children, and I'm technically a doctor, so, yeah, I think I'm counting right.

After more dumb questions and munching sounds since I think she called me back on her lunch break, we decided to take a "wait and see" approach. So I waited, and five hours later, I saw my long lost Aunt Flo. And now the old hag refuses to leave ...

Other beings who refuse to leave are the GD scorpions who have taken up residence in about a 3' x 3' area at the top of my stairs. Seriously, W.T.everlovin.F.?! I have killed four of them in the last month, all in that same spot, which leads me to believe that there is obviously a nest or a kingdom or a coven or whatever somewhere around there. And guess what color my carpet is? Scorpion color! The other day, one of them somehow made it into Peach and Olive's bathroom, and when I picked up the trashcan to sweep, there he was. I really didn't want to freak them out, so I quickly tried to squish it with the trashcan. No luck. (And before you say, "catch and release" or "it's one of God's creatures" or some such bullshit, I say, if they breach my borders, all bets are off. They will be killed. Period.). Next, I grabbed the closest thing, which happened to be Windex, and while I think I stunned him a little, it just wasn't toxic enough. Finally, I ran to the utility room and grabbed the spray starch. Of course. I got to spraying, and the second I saw him start to struggle, I poured it on, quietly chanting "Die you motherfucker" through my very clenched teeth. I hate 'em, y'all! SO much. I stepped on one during a fifth grade slumber party beauty pageant, and I've never forgiven the whole species. At 1o years old, I thought scorpion=poison=instant death, so I totally lost my shit, along with the rest of the contestants, the judges, and the emcee. It was not pretty. I did end up winning the crown, but I think it was just because they felt sorry for me.

And now I feel sorry for you for having to read this crap. I'd write more, but my mutilated wrist is throbbing, so I must go ice it down. Or cut my arm off and be done with it. Whichever.