Monday, February 20, 2012

Pink Cadawac

I have the itch to buy a house.  I know it probably won't happen this year, but looking at real estate now is prompting us to take a good look at our finances and credit ratings to start getting our stuff in order.

I found a house that we both really like.  Assuming we could get approved for a down payment loan and a mortgage, it's an incredible value.  It needs a lot of cosmetic work, and we have no idea what problems an inspection would reveal.  We have a huge crush on this house - I feel like a 14 year old girl and his house is "that boy" - you know the one.  The one with the perfect hair and the dreamy eyes.  Yeah.  Him.

(Leebee drifts off into La La Land for a moment............)

The house is on a street named "Cadawac."  Thanks to Lindsay, I know have Bruce Springsteen's "Pink Cadillac" stuck in my head, as sung by Elmer Fudd:

I wuv you for your pink Cadawac
Cwushed vewlvet seats
Widing in the back
Oozing down the stweet
Waving to the goils
Feewin' out of sight
Spendin' aw my money
On a Satuhday night
Honey I just wonder what you do der in back
Of your pink Cadawac
Pink Cadawac

(cue saxophones!)

Houston - the biggest small town in the world

Yet again, I find my life in Houston tends to overlap in weird and wonderful ways that I least expect.  A brief story of my latest "small world" experience.

I've been at my new office for nearly 2 months now.  I love it here.  My coworkers are AMAZING people and I have never had so much fun working.  We're still playing the "getting to know you" game and one colleague, "Mark", and I find that our lives have a lot of overlap, but we only recently met.  Turns out that he's friends with many of my old classmates from Jr High (his step-brother and I were classmates).  Last night, at a Rodeo event with the boss, I ran into an old classmate - one of the few whom I remember with fondness and am genuinely happy to run into (he looks great BTW!).  Turns out Mark knows him too and has a similarly complementary opinion of him.

Disney was right - it IS a small world after all.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Family Drama: Do I add to it?

I found the Xmas card & check from my biological-paternal-grandmother last night.
She got my new last name wrong and left out the "MaidenName-" and only listed me as my husband's last name.  I didn't stop being a member of my adoptive family when I got married, thank you very much. 
I'm sorely tempted to just mail it back to her with a note saying "You went to K's wedding, but couldn't bother to come to my wedding over some stupid cows.  Apparently, I'm not a real grandchild or member of this family. I'm not interested in having a relationship with someone who treats me like that."

But sending a letter like that would really hurt my Pops and probably cause a HUGE argument with other family members.  However, why didn't any of them stand up for me and tell their mother/grandmother that she was being really petty and that it's incredibly hurtful to snub a grandchild like that.  

She missed my first wedding in 2005, but it was back in Chicago and my grandfather was too ill to travel and she wouldn't travel without him - I think she made the right choice then.  But it also made it all the more important to me that she attend this one - it was local for her, and grandfather had passed several years ago.  (And gosh darnit, I travelled for his funeral right after having orthopedic surgery on my arm!  Stitches, bandages, vicodin and all!)

She's also my only living grandparent who acknowledges me.   My Mom's father died before I was born and her mom passed before I moved back to Texas.  I had no relationship with Dad's father, who died c. 1996, and his mother passed shortly after my Ex-Husband and I split (her last message to me, via Dad, was "Leah's going to be OK.", and gosh darnit, I won't prove her wrong!).  My biological mother parents refuse to meet me or even acknowledge me (F*** them!  I'm a neat person and I don't need them!).

So with that in mind, why on earth am I letting this even bother me?  To be honest, I don't know.  Maybe I miss my Granny R and I'm trying to find a replacement.  IG will never be Granny R.  They're vastly different people. 

I know, I know.  I should take this to a therapist.  Maybe when the new insurance kicks in.  Counting the days to April.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Definitely a hatchet moiderer...

Sherwood Forest Faire opening weekend 2012:  A Tale of Terror

I went camping this last weekend with Ed and 2 friends, Ally & Ross, for the opening weekend of the Sherwood Forest Faire.
It's Friday night and we're settled in, freezing our butts off from lack of fire because we don't have a raised fire pit and in-ground fires aren't allowed.  So we all go to bed fairly early (well, early for a festival).  At about 3am, a neighboring set of tents that set up some time after we went to bed starts yelling "Gimme a dollar!" sporadically.  This continues until about 7am.  Meanwhile, campers from those tents are wondering around the camp grounds, and several tripped over our tent, specifically the corner by our heads.  By now, Ed is thoroughly pissed off and ready to tackle someone.  Somehow (a miracle, I’m sure), I manage to get him to put away the 9mm and soothe him back to sleep, though the “Gimme a dollar!” crap continues.  Ally later said she was commenting to Ross that Ed must have been pissed and was surprised we didn’t hear her.  Ally also deduced from their conversation that they were probably underage, drinking, and high on shrooms and that the “Gimme a dollar!” yelling was a rudimentary mating call (that we later found out worked, much to our disappointment). 

We manage to sleep a wee bit before finally dragging ourselves out from our tent to get ready for opening day.  It’s about 9 or 10am, when someone shouts “Gimme a dollar!”  Ed snaps, grabs the hatchet, and storms over to the offending tents and starts yelling at the first face he sees.  (Meanwhile, Ross is a few steps behind Ed hoping he doesn’t have to get involved in a fight, and Ally and I are hiding in our campsite and I’m trying not to hyperventilate.)  To be honest, I don’t really recall exactly what was said, but I know that Ed yelled at them about all the yelling and tripping over our tent and that they were being giant assholes to all the neighboring campers. 

Later that afternoon (after we retired early from the faire, missing a show we really wanted to see, because we were all too friggin tired from lack of sleep), the camper Ed yelled at stopped by our site to apologize.  He said his name was Road Kill, they call themselves the Bum Camp (hence, “Gimme a dollar!”), this was their first Ren Faire, and they’d heard that faires were basically non-stop parties.  Ed had scared him half to death, and he was telling his camp mates about the incident (some didn’t believe him about the angry man with the hatchet) and encouraging them to keep the noise down.  Some had moved to another part of the campground already.  Ally talked to Road Kill some, explained camp site etiquette (basically, be good neighbors even if there are no set quiet hours and follow the tone of the camp ground – if everyone around you is quiet, it’s best to not yell and shout and trip over tents). 

For the rest of the weekend, Ed was known as “Angry Ax Man.”  At least Saturday night was quiet.
Ah, but all was not well in the Bum Camp!  Apparently, Road Kill was harshing on someone’s groove by trying to get them to be good neighbors and not get kicked out of the camp site.  He was nearly abandoned at the camp site with no way to get back to Houston, but managed to find a ride.  Two of him comrades, Tommy and Bat Man(?) were not so lucky and came to our campsite to 1) make nice and 2) beg for a ride. 

Though our car was full to bursting, we could have asked Ross & Ally to carry some of our gear in their truck to make room in our back seat.  But since Ed didn’t offer it up, I figured he was still pissed and was not interested being that generous.  Ross and Ally, being much more forgiving than Ed, let them ride in the back of their truck all the way from Paige (just east of Austin) back to Houston in the cold.  To their credit, Tommy and Bat Man helped break camp and change a flat on Ross’ truck. 

I can only hope that Tommy, Road Kill, and Bat Man take Ally’s suggestion to re-evaluate their friends.