Monday, October 29, 2007

A Touch of Lace

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I love best friends.

Jennifer and I have known each other - our whole lives. Well, more accurately she and her family moved into the neighborhood when we were about five years old and have been making deals over charms collections ever since.

I love her because she is the most straightforward person I know. She is also a borderline hypochondriac in the most lovable way. She calls and says "I think I might be dying." I will answer "We all are Jennifer. Do I get first pick of your jewelry?" We talk all the time - every day or so. We don't get together as often as we'd like and that's our own fault.

There were six of us - three sets of sisters who grew up playing dolls, roller skating, talking about boys, riding our bikes to the library, etc. We grew older and went our separate ways. One to California, one to Texas, one to Florida, one to Pennsylvania and two in New York - Jennifer and me. We've all stayed in touch, some better than others (she said as she looked meekly around). Thankfully Jennifer lives in Brooklyn and I in Queens and we talk all the time from work.

She never reads my blog and could not be bothered. Not because she doesn't like how I write, on the contrary. She thinks with my family's colorful history, I certainly have a good story to tell. I never tell that one. It's a long one and well where to begin? At the beginning...

The girl child was born on a hot July day. Before there was routine use of air conditioning, before people thought to seek relief in any other way but on the stoop or in front of a fan, with a little cornstarch powder on your neck. Now that was luxury. She was the seventh child born to this family and that in and of itself should have been a good sign. Her mother is fond of telling her that her hair was a strawberry blonde that people would often remark upon. That and the space between her front teeth. Mr. Burns would look at that space and say with certainty that she would be a singer. Mr. Burns is probably rolling over in his grave.

We moved to the small town where I grew up in 1963. The dates are fuzzy in my mind, but Jennifer moved there shortly thereafter. That's a long time to have such a wonderful friend.

Life's pretty good, I guess.

PS: Hey Jenn, they really like chocolate too. Just saying.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Whatever Happened to Baby G?

I saw her somewhere. She can be found spinning tunes in Central Snark on the weekend. Well not live, but that's one post. One of the co-administrators of the blog, who is her NBFF, has some really tough things happening lately and she's not posting. So all of the co-administrators of whom she counts herself one, are rising to the occasion and trying to do posts there. She's trying to whip up a post for TheSnark right now I think. Did I mention she's also serving as editor for for the blog reviews?

It's just when Dieselpresented reviews as something fun and easy and did he mention fun? Well she couldn't refuse. She likes writing and wanted to give it a crack. She actually does like doing the reviews.

I know she longs for those halcyon days of writing a post, rereading it, rereading it again. Thinking it to be exactly what she wanted to say at that moment in time and publishing. Then rereading and correcting a typo and rereading and well you get the picture.

The truth is it's been pretty hectic of late for her. But mostly it's all good and it's life and did we mention she might be a tad distractable by nature? She'll get her act together I'm sure and figure out the balance of it all. When she does, oh she'll be back with a vengeance.

What's that? Oh no, she's fine. She's just resting here, that's all.

Now scram.

Baby Jane Hudson

Friday, October 19, 2007


the new King of Queens.

Louie became part of our family today. We don't know how we've lived without him. Okay, gotta go walk him.

Have a wonderful weekend.

PSSST: Drop by Central Snark over the weekend where you can find me spinning tunes.

UPDATE: Two weekends ago, my brother-in-law called and asked "so do you want a puppy?" He then went on to recount Louie's tale of wanderlust (or escape from a chain gang, we're not sure). My brother-in-law and SIL found him near their home where they spend weekends. They are animal lovers and of course, took chase and rescued him. Signs were hung all over the area, vets, humane society, police all contacted. They brought him to a vet to see if he had a chip imbedded with his information - nothing. They've had him for a month and would have kept him, but they are a one dog household and Hershey already rules theirs.

My reaction was of course we wanted a dog. It was Scissors that needed working on. He basically refused and I called the next day and told my BIL that we would be taking the pup. I'll spare you the details leading up to Louie's arrival except to say that Scissors really warmed to the idea. He want from complete disagreement to agitated resignation. Real progress. They brought him to our house yesterday and when Scissors walked in and Louie went and jumped up and put his little paws on his lap, it was like the scene from The Grinch That Stole Christmas - his heart grew three sizes larger that day.

Guess whose side of the bed Louie slept on last night?

Thursday, October 04, 2007

How I Got My Thing Back

Where last we left off in this tale, our relaxed heroine (me) had returned from a seaside vacation with her family to be greeted by next door neighbor who has construction underway in his home.

And action!:

Yuri: Okay, so here's vut's happening vile you were gone. Zhere vere a bunch of robberies in ze neighborhood.
Me (alarmed):Oh no! What would you call a bunch?
Yuri: Zhree - zat's not important

I begged to differ but didn't at that point.

Yuri: Vut happened is zees - ze guy came and took a package from your porch and zey found it at one of the homes in the bushes. Maybe he try to use it to pretend like he's a delivery man to go up to ze houses.
Me: Gasp in horror: That was my Thing!
Yuri: Oh zat's good, I zought it was my computer, heh heh. Anyway, I talk to ze detective and he told me ze story. So you're gonna call the precinct and ask about it.
Me: I guess zat's, I mean that's what I'm going to do.

Me: Phoning Local Precinct: Hello, my name is G Lampshade. Apparently a package containing my Thing was stolen from my porch and used as a ruse to gain entrance to some homes in a string of burglaries that occurred in my neighborhood.
Desk Officer: Mam, you'll have to come down to the Precinct as how would we know that it's your Thing that you're calling about without identification?
Me: Fine, I'll be there tomorrow.

Scene 2: The heroine has decided to walk to the Precinct to inquire about her Thing. Her daughter is along for the trip as they will be going farther on to finish a book report in a local library as Yuri's construction has hit a fevered pitch. As they walk, the heroine bravely tries to assure child that she has nothing to fear going into a precinct possibly mixing it up with some perps as Mommy is here. Child replies "I think you're the one who's nervous, Mommy." Heroine mutters, "Me? Nah." she reassures daughter by clutching her hand even tighter.

They arrive at the precinct with the daughter soaking up the whole dingy atmosphere. They approach the desk officer:

Me: Hello, my name is G Lampshade. I called last night about my missing Thing that was stolen from my front porch.
Desk sergeant (in slight Russian accent): Vel, vy don't you call the post office?
Me: Because they didn't take it into evidence - the NYPD did.
Not one to be put off (after all I've watched every Law and Order series) ask, "Isn't there a detective handling this?"

The desk officer calls upstairs and immediately speaks to the detective in question. He gives my name and the detective came downstairs with full knowledge of the case. My Thing was indeed taken into custody and was being dusted for prints. The detective calls over another detective to ask where it is in the process.

Both of them then asked: "Was it of value?"
Me: "Well, uh, maybe not just yet. But perhaps in the future."
Detective 1: What did it contain?
Me: Well I'm not exactly sure. It's a thi, a work of art.

The detective took my name and number and assured me that he would get it back to me as soon as possible and I agreed to calling my Art Source to see if I could obtain another.

We leave the precinct only hearing one curse word (and that was out of an officer's mouth), seeing no perps and with a crush on the detective.

On to the library we went where after a series of unfortunate events (including but not limited to wacko parents and overzealous beginning readers) which prevented daughter from completing book report, we arrived home. Scissors is in the driveway and mentions, "the detective dropped by and left your package. It's inside."

I run inside excitedly to open THE THING! At first, I was mad that the detectives gave it back. Bear in mind that The Thing was conceived not really as art but as "a quarterly periodical in the form of an object." I forgot that last part and had in mind art when I opened my Thing:

Okay, okay so it's not as if I have to hang it on a window which is sort of annoying because maybe I would have if we had a standard size window in the house in need of a shade. Then the thought occurred (well actually not my original thought but that of the creators) that it could be hung anywhere.

We have a spot picked out in the downstairs hallway but I realize it could possibly send a negative message to Scissors' clients that his work is in need of forgiveness.

Anyway, that will only be on sunny days.