I Am The Wind Beneath His Wings

What a night! Did you hear that speech? I wish you all could have been fleas on the wall over here at the rambler when, 1) he won; 2) he delivered a riotous acceptance speech and 3)gave a shout out to sissy, dubbing me "HILARIOUS." Next year I'm hoping he will invite me to accompany his bad bald self. I will be red-carpet-ready w/the implants riding high.

A Very Special Triathlon

The Handyman and I have a mean habit of glancing out the window on the weekends, watching people jogging down our street, and making fun of the ones who have an odd gait. We'll even clear out some of the furniture in the living room so we can imitate their oafish running, eliciting all kinds of giggles from our children. Well, never again. Yesterday I caught a glimpse of my running self on video and believe that I could quite possibly earn a place on the U.S. Special Olympic team.

My knees knock together when I run. They don't actually touch but appear as if they might. Something akin to a breaststroke kick. Regardless, the cerebral-palsy-like style did carry me over the finish line yesterday. As a matter of fact, I finished in EXACTLY the same time as last year.

Today, when I expressed to my kids that I hope I can finish a little faster next year, my eldest pointed out to me that I appeared only to be "jogging" the run and that I should have been doing a full-on sprint. The middle one suggested I wear "Heelys." Do you wear a helmet with Heelys? 'Cuz a helmet would definitely go with my running style. As would leg braces.

Tri-ing (too hard)

Triathlon looms--Sunday's the day
Will I make it all the way?

1/3 mile swim, then the bike
Running's next (quite a hike.)

Hoped I'd have the implants in
To improve bouyancy on the swim.

Alas, I'll just have sagging mounds
As I pass the cheering crowds.

Wish me luck and pray a load
I don't expire on Braddock Road.

Embarrassed as Sh*t

I am so embarrassed. We have a senior dog who has become, of late, slightly incontinent. Lately she lets a few (hard) poops drop out around the house. While the clean-up is easy enough, the bad thing is you never know when you might happen upon a random piece of shit, and that can be slightly embarrassing when company calls.

Today was the day the maids come--yeeha! (The fact that there's random bits of shit scattered about the house tells you that housekeeping is not my forte.) When they come they also change the bed linens. Wonderful! So this afternoon, I went down to the laundry room where the linens were neatly bundled by the washing machine. I started pulling apart the bundle from my bed to load them into the washer and what comes tumbling out but a VERY large piece of fecal matter.

How humiliating that the people who clean my house think not only that I'm too lazy to clean my own home, but that I am too lazy to get up and use the toilet in the middle of the night.

VBS, yes, yes, yes!

Ah, the week I've been anticipating all summer has arrived! It's VBS...vacation bargain school! For a mere pittance, the good Lutheran people take my kids off my hands from 9 till 12:30, freeing me up to do any number of things. CAN I GET AN AMEN?

In summers past, we were more or less VBS gypsies, wandering from the Lutherans to the Baptists to the Methodists, to the Presbyterians. I've cut back now to just one week, but still, there are those who seem suspicious of my motives. Yesterday at the pool, I overheard another mother griping about how she had spent the morning volunteering at VBS and how it seems more and more people are signing up their kids simply as a means for a "mother's morning out." I cowered behind my crossword puzzle and slunk a little lower in my chaise lounge...guilty.

Things Get Messy Meeting Uncle Jesse

My neck is feeling a little better. Thanks for asking.

I want to take a moment to post about a most exciting adventure I partook in last weekend. The Beach Boys concert...with John Stamos! A friendly relative of mine got me a few tickets and some backstage passes. I took my 8-year-old as he is a new fan of "Full House" and particularly, Uncle Jesse. Also with us was a friend of mine and 3 other younguns. Feeling very important, we all swaggered back stage after the show, proudly sporting our backstage passes. John was supposed to be there waiting with open arms...but, to be quite blunt, he blew us off. Apparently he was in a hurry to get some food in that rock-star tummy and made a speedy exit from the Filene Center, not leaving so much as a note for us on his dressing room door. It was a sad, sad scene.

Well, let me tell you, I didn't get this far in life being demure. A bold and resourceful Irene made a few calls, found out exactly where Uncle Jesse had scurried off to, and declared, "Let the wild goose chase begin!" The Honda Odyssey careened on two wheels as it entered 495 and whipped halfway 'round the beltway to our destination. In no time flat we had tracked down John's lil' ass at a dive in Chevy Chase, noshing on crabs. My entourage and I (still sporting our backstage passes) waltzed right in and interrupted his dinner, but he was truly delightful about the intrusion and took the time to chat and sign autographs and pose for a few pictures. What a guy!

That's all for today. Stay cool in this oppressive heat, my readers!