Wednesday, May 25, 2011

For those of you waiting for the SanFran report.  All I’ll share is, Prince says “Hi.”

The gal at Sephora who told me I can absolutely rock the “new orange” lipstick, according to my BFFs, is totally wrong.  And here I thought I was being admired for my fashion statement and all along folks were wondering to themselves if I was off my meds.  Thank God for BFFs.

Marketing Strategies for Small Businesses is now registered with the state of Nebraska.

Spring in Omaha is a fair trade for spring in Atlanta.  Omaha – Lilacs, Atlanta - Azaleas.  Omaha – whirlybird seeds all over your car, Atlanta – Pine pollen.  Omaha duration of spring – one day a week for three weeks, Atlanta duration of spring – three consecutive days.

I haven’t been to the gym for quite a while.  I drove by yesterday and they have changed their name.  No kidding.  I need to go by and see if my membership was transferred or if I am now a member of a gym that has only one other location….in Lincoln.  *sigh*

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

In my bedroom I had JUST gotten dressed and without knocking my father introduced me to his electrician. 

I leave Thursday for a quick girls’ trip to SanFran.  Thank the Lord.

Thursday night we are partying back stage with Prince in San Jose.  Ok, we have normal tickets to the concert - no back stage passes - yet since this is the year I have declared to go for it all, we are going to do what we can to get back stage.  And, at our age, there’s not much we’re afraid to do.  We’ve already chosen the perfect attire, we will gain our courage in the limo ride from SF to SJ, the rest will unfold perfectly from intention or attention.  If I do not end up in jail, I should have a good story to blog upon my return.

I have made the neighborhood size portion of Neiman Marcus Chocolate Chip Cookies to hold my folks through Monday.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

I attended a party at a mortuary last night.  It was a Chamber/Ribbon Cutting/Networking event.  I went mostly because I wanted to see a dead body or an embalming room or something.  Morbid curiosity is real. 

Sara, their PR person, indicated to us with Vanna White moves that where the party catering tables were located is where a coffin would be placed for viewing…up to three in a room if needed.  Eeeew.  Then she took us to the container room.  Certainly not it’s proper name but it is where one chooses a coffin, an urn or those ceramic, rectangular shoe boxes for burying cremated remains.  My grand folks are in those.  I always envisioned an urn buried underneath the name plate….didn’t realize it is one piece.

All of the containers were beautiful and the miniature urns caught my eye.  “Those aren’t for infants are they?” I gasped.  The others on the tour glared at me yet listened intently to her reply.  She said they are specifically for dividing up remains among the family…everyone can have a little bit.   I wish I would have known about this.  When I shared Lucille’s remains (my dog I had to put down about a year ago) she got divvied into zip lock baggies.

Side story – when I decided to move back to Omaha, I chose to sprinkle the bulk of Lucille’s ashes (they are not really ashes, they are more like sand and dust) in the lake behind the house.  My ex John, our Blue Dobie Dezi and I walked out onto the dock, said a few words and I flung Lucille’s remains right into a gust of wind that blew the dust and sand right back into our faces, up our noses and all over our clothes.  Her last gesture was again proof I gave her the right name.  RIP Lucille Ball!!!

I asked Sara if I could see a dead body and she said that was against the rules.  So I asked her if I could see the embalming room or crematorium and she shared with us all that those procedures are performed at their processing location.  Sort of like a dry cleaners I guess – most dry cleaners are store fronts only, the cleaning happens somewhere else.  Made me wonder if they ever have to explain body mix ups like when I get someone else’s clothes from the dry cleaners.

After the ribbon cutting and the letting go of balloons, I went to compliment a gal on her cute dress.  She runs the crematorium.  My tour is next week!!

Update – my sister is coming to town so no model A Tour with dad.  It rained sideways today.  Dad once owned an airboat and that is why we have a propeller. Wha?

Tuesday, May 03, 2011

“Aircraft Propeller, Handle with Care” is printed on the side of the long, skinny box hanging high in the garage above the 1912 EMF Studebaker.  There is actually a propeller in the box.  I find this very funny.  I can’t wait to find out why dad has it.

I mutter. My mother mutters, too. She sits in the family room muttering to herself and I sit at my desk in the dining room and mutter to myself.  A few times during the day we ask each other “are you taking to me?”

It officially turned summer in Nebraska today and most everyone has turned on their air conditioning.  Early last week the heaters were running.  Then for two days – called Spring – no HVAC was required.  Today it hit 89 degrees. 

Met a new friend today who still maintains her very first car – a 1979 Firebird.  Bright Yellow. Sweet.  Dad is firing up his 1966 Thunderbird for me to sport around town.  Convertible, white leather interior.  Double Sweet.  Dad invited me to join him on a Model A car tour in early June. 

Great-stuff-for-the-blog SA – WEET!

Monday, May 02, 2011

Berkman for Jackson

Colon for Pavano

Santos for Sales

Fuld for Hunter

I found myself at the Draft House last night making my dad’s fantasy baseball trades.  It was more important to him to go Morel mushroom hunting than to tend to his trades.  I had dad buy everyone’s beer.

 

Most of dad’s fellow team owners are under 35 years of age.  I could be these kids’ mother. I, however, am very cool and have been told I don’t look my age.  So I treat these guys like any other single guys I would meet.  As opportunities. (Yes, I am a cougar. Ok, I WANT to be a cougar.) 

The league’s Commissioner of Baseball is a very cute painter by trade.  He had a glop of white paint on his elbow.  I waited as long as I could before I had to ask him if I could get the paint off his elbow.  I used “Kleenex and spit.”  *sigh*  Now he sees me as the mother type….and I’m sure it’s not a MILF. 

The women in Omaha NEED expansive wardrobes I have decided.  For the two months I have been here I have worn winter, spring, fall and summer clothes all in the same week.  I am tired of my entire wardrobe already.  I must go shopping.  Oh dear! I just thought of something.  Maybe the unpredictable weather and weary wardrobe is why sweatshirts and pajama pants is the uniform of Omaha – it’s easier than trying to figure out what to wear!!  Dear Lord, I refuse to wear a hoody out to dinner.  I need retail therapy immediately.

Mom didn’t know Omaha has a roller derby team.  “They do”, I told her, “cuz I looked them up with the fantasy of taking lessons or joining them.”  Mom said she watched the roller derby on TV when she babysat.  She loves it.  We’re going to see the Omaha Roller Girls on Friday, May 13^th!!  Anyone care to join us?