Martini Cartwheels

I was just out skimming the pool, thinking how horrible it would be if I fell in because it has been less than 30 minutes since I ate those crackers. Growing up in the 70's I was never told by my parents to wear a bike helmet or to use sunblock. What I did learn however, were the dangers of swimming, either in a pool or the ocean, without waiting 30 minutes after eating. Apparently several things can happen if you do not obey this law of nature. You will immediately sink to the bottom with no chance of survival. You will be able to swim fine for the first minute or so, but shortly thereafter cramp up so bad that you will sink to the bottom. Again, with no chance of survival. Your tunafish sandwich will decide to "repeat" on you, travel up your esophagus, spill over into your windpipe,  and choke the living shit out of you until you sink to the bottom.  NCOS.  You will suffer a gas pain so debilitating that you will fold over in two like a clothespin, lose all se...

Holy  REO   Speedwagon  Batman, it time for me to fly to my class reunion again. The following is an excerpt from a blog post I wrote back in 2007, slightly revised. Here goes my practice run: "Hey  CJ , I have five boys. What about you, any kids?" "No, I hate kids. You can't legally crate them like you can dogs.  Ughhh , what I meant to say was I just plain forgot to have them. That's why I look so much younger than you.  Ummm , no really, I love kids. It's just that I have awesome great nieces and nephews and I can play with them when ever I want and then I can return them. ( CJ  thinking - I'm in really deep you know what now). Hey, that's a great dress you're wearing. Husband? Oh no. None worthy. Actually I like girls. Yeah, it was a shock to me too. ( CJ  thinking again - Oh &^%$*, why did I bother coming here). Springfield College. No, I didn't major in PE. Correct, I said I had dogs, not cats. Why yes, this is the same hair sty...

The son of my good friend Stiffy had his tonsils out yesterday. She sent me a text with a picture of him, lying in his hospital bed surrounded by stuffed animals. She was spending the night in his hospital room. His experience seemed little bit different then the time I had my tonsillectomy in 1970. Kids weren't treated to pre-admission tours, puppets, and caring staff back then. In fact, I think my dogs are treated better at the vet then the way kids were treated at the hospital 40 years ago. My father brought me to the hospital bright and early. Rather, I should say he "dropped me off" as parents were not encouraged to hang around like they are today. The room was large, about half the size of a basketball court minus the bleachers (or at least that's what it seemed like). Beds filled the entire perimeter of the ward. I remember being told to lie on my stomach. "Must be doing something hospital thing" I thought. Before I knew what was happening, a thermom...

What is your home town known for? Mine is the home of the world's largest kielbasa. Kind of funny that a lesbian is from a place where they are proud of their giant sausage. I should have been born in northern Alberta, Canada, the home of the world's largest beaver dam. Although, there is nothing like a good Polish plate. But then again, there is also nothing like a good --- oh never mind.

Hey Bain de Soleil lady! I wish I had never listened to you. Sure, you're a hottie and you look really good with that tan. But I used that Orange Gelee #4 all through high school. After three visits to the dermatologist and 3 sun damaged areas removed from my skin, I think you owe me an apology. I'm Whitey McPasty now and proud of it. And I'm the only person I know who goes on a cruise and comes back whiter then when they left. Take that, you scantily clad sun goddess with the gorgeous figure and personal butler. If you're looking you can find me and my glass under an umbrella.

When you were growing up, was everything a big secret? At first I thought it just the street on which I grew up, which I fondly call 'the street that time forgot'. Then I met other folks from Chicopee and they had similar experiences. I'm not talking about personal things, like how much you Dad made or whether or not your parents used to play escaped prisoner and warden's wife. But I can remember you were never supposed to talk to your friends about how much your parents paid for something, or any medical procedures anyone was having (unless it was your tonsils), or who was getting divorced. Once my parents aged however, they had no problem telling me all the details of their colonoscopy, how many times they had to use the bathroom at the Senior Center, or how well their Polident Dentu-Grip was working that day. Now that's the stuff that should be kept a secret. And by the way, that beautiful 1978 Chrysler Cordoba with the crank windows my parents had - it cost $8,0...

I over-heard someone at my 25th high school reunion last week say they thought I was one of the folks who hadn't really changed. I'm not sure if that is a compliment. My hair, although longer, is still the same color thanks to my hairdresser. I know I weigh a little bit more. And I know I don't wear quite as many layers as I used to, unless it is a very cold day outside. Speaking of layers, I wonder why I didn't throw on a cardigan or a second oxford for my picture. Surely I could have fit one more article of clothing either underneath or on top of my sweater. What was I thinking?

I recently got a cute email that was entitled "If You Were A Little Girl In The 70's..". The email described many of the things you may have owned if you were a young female during that wonderful era. Here is one of the items: I did not own these. Because I wasn't a little bit country or a little bit rock and roll. I was a little bit lesbian. Sure, I had the bike with the banana seat, the Magic 8 Ball, and the soundtrack from Grease. But my taste in dolls was a bit different. I owned this: I also had Big Jim's buddy Big Josh. They would travel around my room in their Big Jim Camper, complete with sleeping bags and cooking utensils. I don't know if Big Jim and his friend were more gay or if I was. Oh well, at least I never lived in the closet next to a Magic 8 Ball.

What I am saying: "Wow, it's really cool to have a big sister!" What she is saying: "I can't believe I had to give up my room for this spoiled thing. Hurray up already. I'm missing Dance Party. I hope my hair comes out ok . I had to iron it for an hour to get it this straight." What I am saying: "You have the coolest aunt in the world. I hope my perfectly feathered hair looks good in this picture." What EM is saying: "You think you're so cool in your Earth shoes and polyester shirt. I'm cooler than you and I'm only eight."

It arrived on Saturday. It looked official, like a jury duty notice or a tax bill. The large bold print says it all. You're over 40 now, and you probably can't see very well. We'll start early, at 6:30, just in case you can't make it past 9:00. And we'll make it a buffet, so you don't have to remember what your original dinner choice was when the wait staff comes around to ask you "chicken or fish". And don't worry about trying to find a guest to bring. We know you must be divorced by now. Have fun!

I was whining to myself today about having to go back to work tomorrow after a long weekend. Then I remembered about some of the jobs I used to have. I once worked in the women's clothing department in a large discount retail store in Springfield. I never got to announce a blue light special, but I could frequently be heard over the intercom saying "Housekeeping to the women's dressing room with a mop". Apparently not having a bathroom in the store was not about to stop some people from relieving themselves. Luckily I had my wisdom teeth ripped out that summer and it gave me an excuse to call in frequently. I also worked as a counselor at a sports camp. I had always been athletic, but swimming and gymnastics were not two of my strong points and they were both big events at this camp. My favorite game to play with my group of precious darlings was Campers Lie Still. The kid who could lie (or is it lay - I can never remember that) quietly on the grass without mov...

Does anyone remember Jarts - that lawn game where you had those giant darts that you tossed from one end of the yard to the other, trying to land your Jart in the little plastic yellow ring that you set up on the edge of your parent's grass? I loved that game. I saw today that it was number one on a list of 'the 10 most dangerous playthings of all time' . Sure it was dangerous. And yes, I know it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Then it's just fun. I'm fairly certain this game is banned in Massachusetts. Too bad. Seems like it would be great to play after a martini or two. And what happened to Loony Balloony (also known as Super Elastic Bubble Plastic)? I remember needing to have a note to buy glue for my model airplanes yet I could buy this stuff at the corner store. I would slap a wad of it onto the red straw that came in the package and create awesome psychedelic colored balloons. Or maybe the balloons were clear, and I was too stoned from the ...

I'm not sure why, but for some reason I got the feeling I was supposed to post this today. After my Father passed away, my Mother sold the house that they lived in for 40+ years. My father passed in the house. Right after we sold it, I went back in and took pictures of all the rooms. I've seen in various shows and publications where they discussed orbs - those round bubble looking objects that sometime appear in photos. They are supposed to be the energy of those that have passed. I took pictures of every room in the house with a disposable camera. When I got the prints developed, the only room that showed anything that looked like an orb was the room in which my father passed. I agree that it could have been something with the film, lighting, or the camera itself. I just thought it was odd that the only picture that showed this was the aforementioned room. And the orb appears over the area in which he passed. Anyway, since this blog is named after you Ernie (in a round about w...

What a week. Between commuting to Boston and running off to visit my Mother in rehab (for her hip, not for Lindsay Lohan type issues) I feel pretty spent. To top it all off, I just found out my 25 th high school reunion got postponed from November 2007 to March 2008. Holy REO Speedwagon Batman. I had mentally prepared myself for all the standard reunion dialog and now I have to wait another4 months to use it. "Hey CJ , I have five boys. What about you, any kids?" "No, I hate kids. You can't legally crate them like you can dogs. Ughhh , what I meant to say was I just plain forgot to have them. That's why I look so much younger than you. Ummm , no really, I love kids. It's just that I have awesome great nieces and nephews and I can play with them when ever I want and then I can return them. ( CJ thinking - I'm in really deep you know what now). Hey, that's a great dress you're wearing. Husband? Oh no. Never married. None worthy. Actually I lik...