Learning to drive

Riding my bicycle is making me a better driver. I no longer roll through stop signs because I’m too used to being on the OTHER side of that.

As I’ve mentioned I live in a resort-y area. I was on my bike today and an out-of-state driver on a “mission” to get to the beach barely slowed down at the very obvious stop sign. I try to live and let live because let’s face it one never knows when someone is packing a weapon of some variety but this time I couldn’t go quietly, well, for one thing, I almost couldn’t go at all because he came within inches of running me down. I turned around and shouted at him, “yo, JACKASS, in this state STOP means STOP not, “I’m gonna kinda roll through here so lookout’”. His lovely black Escalade was full of his very beautiful wife or girlfriend and two kids watching DVD’s in the backseat.

When I shouted at the guy two bicycle cops suddenly jumped to attention and pedaled over. Enough people had seen the incident and the two bike cops pulled the guy over and wrote a ticket for running a stop sign. The two bike cops must’ve realized it could be a banner day for them.

When I got to the next corner I looked back and they were pulling over every third car or so. The people weren’t even bright enough to pay attention to what was going on two or three cars in front of them, they just kept on running that stop sign.

About a mile up the ocean front on a 25mph piece of roadway that is nearly solely populated by bike riders, dog walkers and runners a young babe in a convertible BMW and yakking on her cell phone didn’t even bother slowing down, nor, it seems did she bother looking to see if she was at risk of hitting anyone. Okay, that one REALLY pissed me off. I punched the hood of her swanky car (because she came even closer to hitting me that the previous guy). She was rattled and actually apologetic but c’mon, a little courtesy on the road there babe.

Anyway, now I’m the one that diligently stops, FULLY STOPS, at every stop sign and checks carefully before pulling out into traffic.

Look, folks, imagine how you’d feel if you hit someone, a pedestrian, a bicyclist, someone walking their dog (and their dog). You’re entrusted with wielding a big hunk of metal (that’d be your car lunkhead), be careful and be respectful of the PRIVILEGE (driving IS privilege NOT a right) of driving; of being able to take road trips and get yourself to work.

And look out for me…on my bright green bicycle and don’t run me down, thank you for your consideration of my safety.

Oh just me bitchin' again...

I’ve been told there are only something like seven stories to be told in fiction. That sure as shit seems about right. I’ve been reading a lot this summer. Just fun stuff, summer reads. Frankly, I’m bored. There’s romance and deceit, mystery, intrigue and murder, cheating and stealing, and let’s never forget our good buddy redemption. There are historic novels that incorporate facts into fiction; but really isn’t that the case no matter what? There’s always some pseudo-factual part of any piece of fiction unless it’s written solely about Middle Earth.

I’m big fan of J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter series. One thing I like about the Potter books is how she incorporated the current “real” world into her world of witches and wizards. When Harry, Ron and Hermione aren’t decked out in their Hogwarts attire they’re wearing jeans and sweaters, just like any other teen-ager. The witches and wizards are careful to keep their lives and activities separate from that of the muggle world (if this doesn’t make sense to you, tough shit, go read the books or stop by mugglenet.com).

When you write fiction you can write whatever you want…because IT’S FICTION! None of it is REAL. It’s all made up stories, every last bit of it. You can write about a big red dog (really BIG) or about vampires or witches or about not being an asshole in a relationship.

I know there needs to be plot devices otherwise there’s no story to read but books deemed to be “summer reads” seem to have similar plot devices. Woman is (a) suddenly single, (b) a beautiful young widow, (c) a beautiful middle-aged widow, (d) a hard-ass young woman who can’t keep a man. Said (beautiful) woman meets a handsome (a) recently widowed, (b) from her past who just lumbered back into town, (c) tough and solitary guy and they do the mating dance. They each send mixed signals to the other one. Some ancillary characters get involved who mess things up, then fix those things, then get caught up in their own troubles, then jump back in to help the couple.

Toss into the mix some pushy parents who are urging one or the other (or both) to get hitched and have babies. Add in the woman (or man) yearning to be a parent but not having the right partner yet. There are the few failed dates with “that other person” who just isn’t right because of (a) he/she is married, (b) he/she is just plain evil, (c) he/she is really in love with someone else and trying to get over them.

Maybe there’s a parent diagnosed with cancer (usually a mom with breast cancer), perhaps there’s a belligerent younger sibling that throws the whole family into a tizzy when they waltz out of town with a dangerous stranger.

I’m bored by it all. Truly, hopelessly bored.

Here’s the thing. Let me remind you again in case you forgot…IT’S FICTION. You can live out your wildest fantasies in it. You don’t have to tow the straight and narrow and yearn for babies and a settled life. You can tell everyone to fuck off when they ask when you’re gonna (a) settle down, (b) have a baby, (c) get a job or whatever. You can make every single character a different facet of yourself, even the ugly underside you never would dare show the world.

I know, I know, if I’m taking the time to write this blog post why not take the time and just write something I’d like to read, right? (WRITE?) Yeah, I know I don’t have many readers here (I can check these things, hence, I know) but even if I did…you’d notice that I haven’t posted much lately and why is that? Because it’s summer and all I really wanna do is go out and play. I’m only writing this because I’m sitting outside by the pool right now and it’s rather breezy so I’m not actually IN the pool where I normally would be…or on my bike going for a ride…or at the gym or who knows where else but not sitting at my computer writing.

A few years ago there was a series of books by the author Shanna Swendson (http://www.shannaswendson.com/index.html) , I love these books. They’re silly and magical and creative. I couldn’t wait to read the next one. The characters were lovable and annoying and kinda real in a very fanciful way. She apparently has a fifth book ready to go but no-dice on that…why? Because her third book didn’t sell well enough. So that makes me wonder if I have any clue at all what people want to read. Maybe people do want to read the same ol’ same ol’.

Alice Hoffman (http://www.alicehoffman.com/) is another author that incorporates a lot into her books…she uses magic that is just on the fringe of MAGIC. You’re almost not quite certain it’s really there…but it is. Most of you are probably most familiar with her witty and quirky title, “Practical Magic” because it was made into a movie with Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock and has become a rom-com fave around Halloween. That’s the stuff I love. Alice Hoffman’s books and characters. It’s not all hearts and romance but there’s a magic that prevails.

I think that’s what’s missing for me, magic. Reading lately has been to “real”. If I wanted “real” I’d watch “jersey Shore” or the Kardashians (kidding, I know that shit ain’t real, silly). To be honest most days I think that my life is more magical than most of those summer reads I’ve dug my sandy toes into this summer (well, not quite as magical as all those books that let the heroine be blissfully un or under-employed but still have plenty of cash to live on, I do have to work for a living).

I want a heroine who truly doesn’t like babies and isn’t suddenly swayed when someone strolls by her with a little one swaddled to her chest. I want a hero who doesn’t mess around and send mixed signals, he may not be Mr. Romance but he could certainly be Mr. Reality (oh they were a WONDERFUL band in the late ‘80’s early ‘90’s…loved them, my friends and talented musicians…you can still find them on MySpace…remember MySpace? http://www.myspace.com/mrrealitynj, but I digress…). He could just tell the flighty chick that he likes her, would like to know her better and give it a go. Good Lord people; I don’t know a single person in real life that did as much “dancing” around someone as most of the morons in the books I’ve read.

I want an adult heroine’s mom to NOT be struggling with breast cancer but instead a strong, independent person who rolls her eyes at all of her needy friends begging for grandkids. Where ARE these characters? These books?

Just when you stop looking

Two days ago I was intent on finding an awesome new place for breakfast; not “NEW-NEW” but new to ME. After all, I’m on staycation and the weather has been dicey at best so I’ve had to do something other than ride my bicycle obscenely long distances or lounge by the pool with the dogs.

Searching online landed me at a place that was highly recommended. It was just “meh”. It wasn’t bad but I didn’t leave there feeling the need to rave about it online. The atmosphere was a very reliable luncheonette look/feel. When I got there I was the only female diner and also the only diner under 65 years old, when I left there was one other female diner…NOT under 65 years old.

I’m now convinced that the proprietor of said luncheonette had his friends and family go online and rave about the place so that people like me would find it online based on awesome reviews and would give it a try. Hey, it worked and was certainly cheaper for him than actually doing any real marketing.

Yesterday the weather held up well enough for me to head out on my bike knowing that the clouds could gather in a heartbeat and the rain and wind could drive me to safety (hey, look, it’s doing it again right now).

Since Tuesday was my day to head south I decided to head north yesterday. A few miles into my trek I realized that it might be a good idea to head inland a bit and weave my way back home rather than risk getting caught too far away. I turned into the little town just north of mine and wandered the streets looking at the gorgeous homes (and giving a nod to my first-ever apartment down here). I got into the center of town, tiny and cute, dotted with some CPA and lawyer offices and some little joints for coffee and chocolates, booze and light groceries. There was one place that I’d heard about but kept forgetting was there. I’d heard about it from people more than halfway across the state it was supposed to be so yummy.

There it was, right in front of me, not crowded…AND they had an outdoor seating area which would be perfect for me with my bike in tow and no bike rack to lock up at. I was about to settle in at an outside table when one of the staff said, “oh honey, it’s way too hot to sit outside today, bring your bike into the lobby and enjoy the AC”. She had me at “oh honey”. See, most of the time I get the “you can’t leave your bike THERE” greeting but not at this place…oh no, they were MORE than happy to take care of me and my two-wheeled transportation.

Once inside I realized I was in the place I wish I’d found the previous day. The décor was adorable, cuter than cute but not annoying. The clientele was a mixed-bag of late-lunching office people, trendy college kids, middle-aged moms chased off the beach by the bad weather and a few random folks that were grabbing some takeout.

The menu was eclectic without being unfamiliar, in other words, the foods were identifiable but unique. Despite the fact that it was 1PM the breakfast menu drew me in. I ordered their version of eggs benedict, two poached eggs on toasted olive bread coated with a lemony artichoke tapenade and fresh/spicy arugula; it was perfect. It was flavorful and comforting and a reasonable portion instead of a big hunk of too much food.

It left me with the feeling I wanted the day before, it left me wanting to tell people about it. It made me want to flail my arms while describing it to hubby. It left me planning my next trip there (today for lunch, maybe?).

Might I just point out that this little joint is probably no more than 3 miles from my house and has been there for the past 7 years and I’ve lived in this house for nearly 10 years! THAT my friends is one reason I love my staycations, I get the chance to check out things I should probably already know about right in my own backyard.

When you go on vacation you get the chance to do a bit of exploring and find some places to shop or eat or hike or whatever; you can’t wait to rave to friends back home about the great little breakfast joint you found…I get to do that raving AND go back any ol’ time instead of waiting for the next time I get to visit that vacation spot.

Gotta go, I’ve got breakfast to go eat now (or maybe lunch, I hope they have the lobster salad again today).

To sleep, perchance to dream

I tried it, I didn’t like it. I tried that whole, sleep for 10 hours or so thing and I can officially state it is NOT my thing. My normal routine involves waking between 5:15 and 5:45AM, taking care of the dogs then getting ready for work and hitting the road.

At night I hit the bed somewhere between 10:30 and 11:30PM. Sure there are mornings when getting up in the 5AM hour is tough and I want to just fall back on my pillow for another hour or two but now I know that falling back on the bed for another three or so hours is just not for me.

Hubby loves to sleep. LOVES IT. It may just qualify as a hobby for him. He needs to clock in a solid ten hours of sleep to consider it a good night. Being staycation week for me I figured I’d give it a try. I hit the pillow around 12:15 last night, got up with the dogs around 5:30 and instead of staying up and enjoying this wonderful summer day I went back to bed. My intention was to get up no later than 7:30ish but there was a certain allure to being in a cold, dark room so I did nothing to jolt myself out of the sack at 7:30 as intended.

‘Round about 9:30 or so I toddled out of bed. I felt like crap, I was cranky and a tad disoriented. Truth be told I almost felt hungover (for no discernable reason). I didn’t like the feeling at all and felt even worse when I saw the great day I had been sleeping away.

Sleep is something our bodies need to regenerate and keep us alive but too much sleep just makes me feel dead. Was it Warren Zevon who proclaimed “I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead” (which, sadly, he now is)? There are only so many glorious summer days to enjoy and sleeping it away seems like just wasting a really awesome gift.

Hubby, who had hit the hay about half an hour before I did last night, rolled out of bed just past 10AM stretching and yawning and scratching his belly while proclaiming how great it was to have slept so much. Being still cranky from, well, sleeping to damn much I snarled at him. He asked if maybe I needed a tad MORE sleep! I told him that no, that was exactly what I did NOT need. What I needed was to get back those two hours between 7:30 and 9:30AM when I should’ve been up and cruising the beach on my bicycle.

I don’t understand it, I really don’t. I see no joy in sleeping in even on a shitty day. On a shitty day in a season other than summer I could be cleaning my house so it feels homey, I could be reading or writing or learning some new thing. If the weather is cooler I could have the dogs running and playing at a park, I could be embarking on a home project too laborious to be worth attempting in summer.

This isn’t to say I’m encouraging people to get to bed early either, heavens no, stay up late and enjoy the nightlife, we did last night. Go out with friends, sit up late on the deck and look at the stars, go for a midnight dip in the pool but for heaven’s sake get the hell out of bed the next day at a reasonable hour.

I thought that maybe by whiling away the hours under the covers I could discover some secret that hubby was already privy to since he seems so adept at sleeping. I figured maybe we could develop some special bond under behind the shroud of sleep…nope, sleep is his to keep. Whatever he finds there isn’t there for me and I don’t want it. I want to be awake and living life AWAKE. Life is short, why sleep it away. I’m more disgusted with sleep now than before this little experiment in sleep that I conducted this morning.

WAKE UP PEOPLE, JUST WAKE UP...DO SOMETHING WITH THE LIFE YOU’VE BEEN GIVEN…

I gotta go, sat around too long, need to get on my bicycle and ride with the wind!

Those girls in their summer clothes…

I have too many summer clothes. I’m pretty certain that I could make it through the entire summer without repeating an outfit and that’s including changing clothes twice a day in some cases. I like summer clothes better than the rest-of-year stuff. It’s softer, prettier, easier to wear; it looks more playful and sexy and all that other fun stuff.

Rest-of-year clothes can be tight or itchy or just plain unappealing. Other than in summer one of my primary concerns is staying warm which means I’ll compromise being pretty and sexy (indulge me here, I realize that at my age those two things may be a tad out of range on the average day but let’s pretend for my sake that they aren’t) in the interest of being warm and that’s just no fun.

I have boxes and piles and tubs of summer shoes. Platforms, wedges, flip-flops, sandals, sneakers, you name it I have it in every color in every height from strappy to subdued. In winter I wear boots. Just the thought of it makes me cringe. I don’t like “shoe-shoes” they don’t feel like “me” so it’s either boots or sneakers to battle the three seasons that aren’t my beloved summer.

In anything but summer I rarely wear dresses. To be exact I wear a dress approximately every seven weeks for opening night where my husband works, that’s it. That’s the ONLY time I get dressed up once the long, heady days of summer have faded to fall.

I admit that I miss wearing dresses once summer’s gone but that doesn’t mean I’ll go out of my way to wear one in the non-summer seasons. I don’t want to have to mess with tights or pantyhose or goosebumpy bare legs. I don’t like the need for sleeves and coats with a pretty dress. It’s all too much bother except in summer when the easiest thing to toss on is a simple summer dress and flip-flops.

This morning I took myself out for breakfast (my summer staycation week is here) and tossed on a plain little tank dress and was fine but in a few short weeks that won’t be an option and dammit I’ll miss that.

Of course it’s summer sale time right now and guess what I want…more summer clothes! The only thing keeping me (and my bank account) safe right now is the weather is just too damn nice to waste time shopping in stores.

One might wonder why I live in the northeastern part of the US if I love summer so much, I was born here. My friends are here. That’s why. Would I rather be in Florida or some other southern state? Oh yeah, the thought of a brief and vaguely chilly “winter” is ever so alluring to me and yet I don’t see me leaving here anytime soon. DAMMIT.

Well, it’s off to the great outdoors for the day in “outfit #1”, that will be followed by a bathing suit which will be followed (most likely) by a summer dress and sandals. Oh summer and all that you bring (like summer clothes) I love you best of all.

Gone before ya know it

Check the date, it’s July 4th. The summer isn’t even a month old yet. Summer is barely a toddler right now. There’s all those chances over the next several weeks to need a new pool float or a sexy new summery dress, I sure hope you can find those things.

On Thursday morning I had to stop by my local grocery store just before noon. That would be this past Thursday…JUNE 30TH, not quite yet July. It was a quick pit stop and I cut through the “seasonal” aisle on my way to the registers. I was pretty focused on my task (I had to be somewhere quickly) but even my intent-of-purpose could be broken by what I saw.

All around me the summery items I love so much were being relegated to sale tables and being replaced by backpacks and school supplies! What? Wait? Hey, it’s not even July 4th yet, what’s goin’ on here?

This is just friggin’ painful. The bigger question though is who BUYS THIS SHIT? If I bought something for September today I can guarantee I wouldn’t be able to find it come September. My house isn’t especially cluttered or messy and that may be the point, I’d buy it and need to put away so that my house WOULDN’T be cluttered or messy and then I’d forget where it was.

And what if I needed something for summer next week? Could I find it? We’ve been going through an alarming number of pool floats lately. We’ve had them a year or two, they’re cheap and, well, they just kinda wear out and are beyond repair and not worth repairing anyway, in a week or two will I even be able to replace them?

We were with friends last night enjoying a local fireworks display, one of the women has three young children and she was saying that everything is currently on sale which is kinda great but she also said that the sales woman at one of the stores told her that the entire Fall line would be on the racks by next week. FOR KIDS. Now look, I don’t HAVE kids but you don’t need to be the damn Duggars to figure out that kids grow out of stuff nearly weekly and you never know when that next growth spurt will shoot them two sizes in two weeks. Kids and their sizes are just plain unpredictable so please tell me how in the world you can reasonably expect to buy something next week for a kid to wear in October? Really?

I just HATE THIS. I do. I don’t want to see knapsacks and bookbags. I want to see backyard gear and special contraptions to make s’mores. I don’t want the retail gods to hurry me any further towards my ultimate demise than the world already does for me.

Can’t we enjoy the “NOW” for a few minutes?

My other question though is do retailers EXPECT to sell things on sale rather than at regular prices? I can tell you that if I went into a store today and saw something I wanted to wear…TODAY and it was regular price I might be tempted to buy it but that won’t be the case. If I were to stop by one of my favorite retailers today I can guarantee that any item of clothing I’d want to wear today or in the next few weeks would be marked down significantly and that lovely sweater that I might want towards the end of September would be full price.

We need a new grill and hubby said this one will make it through this season. I suggested that we should buy a new one at an end-of-season sale…and then I realized those were going on right now. We grill well into October these past few years since the weather seems to actually get nicer and nicer in September and October but by then those grills will be long gone replaced with Christmas and New Year’s items so it looks like our end-of-season grill may just be our most-of-season grill.

All so confusing!

Well, time to hit the road on this July 4th and enjoy some end-of-season somethings.

Happy 4th, Happy Independence Day, Kiss a serviceman or woman, wave your flags and enjoy this great American life for all its warts and burps and beauty.

School Dayz

I have no friends from school. A collective “awwwwwwwwwww” is NOT in order here. I don’t really want any friends from my school days. I did okay in school on the popularity scale. I was attractive enough to do okay, I was loud enough and funny enough to attract attention, I had my various cliques of people to hang with. And then I grew up.

School is odd. We think we’ve met our lifelong buds there on the first day of kindergarten when in fact we become stuck with these people based on our geographic proximity based on school district maps (or busing maps). So there ya go off to your first day of school.

Nowadays school starts much younger, in PRE-school but I’m not talking about starting school now, being childfree I’ve never had to deal with the whole PRE-school thing. I’m talking about ME and what I remember.

Anyway, off to that first day of school, thirty or so fidgeting five year olds gather together for the first time and are assigned seats in alphabetical order so now your “friends-for-life” fate is sealed by the first letter of your last name, if you don’t like the kid to your left maybe the one to your right will be more to your liking.

You wander through school trips together and teasing and taunting and crushes and all that happy horseshit and 12 or so years later you find yourself sobbing and hugging people and signing yearbooks with words like “never forget…”

But some of us do forget, we really do.

I left my hometown a year or two after graduation to move with a boyfriend about an hour away. Admittedly an hour doesn’t seem like much, I currently drive that far each day, one way to my job, but when you’re 19 or 20 years old an hour may as well be halfway across the country.

That boyfriend and I have long parted romantic ways (but remain friends all these years later) but one thing he did for me was introduce me to the people that would basically become my long-term friends. Thirty years later they’re still here (except, it seems, for the ones who have been passing away at an alarming rate of late).

How did this happen? We came together because of common interests, we bonded over things that were important to us then and remain important to us now. We get angry, we get over it, we hang out together every single night then not for two months. We roll our eyes and accuse someone of being nuts, we have our version of the nutty uncle and the too-loud aunt (sometimes I’m afraid that might be me). We’ve grown up and changed just as we’ve stayed the same and are still pretty damn childish.

Some people have moved away and some moved away…and then moved back. There are a lot of us. We can always find someone to do something with.

The other night I was enjoying the fact that I’m on my usual Summer vacation and was staying up too late. Hubby was in bed and even the dogs had (more or less) settled down. I was bored (and should have been blogging) and doing that stupid thing people do on facebook, I was looking up names I could barely remember to see if they were there (and maybe had a public profile).

I looked up one person’s name and saw that she was friends with a bunch of other familiar names so I clicked on them which led me to others. I didn’t send any friend requests because, well, I was only looking out of odd curiosity and boredom.

I was fascinated that so many people from high school were friends with OTHER people from high school. I was AMAZED. I admit I was thrilled to see that the one person who was a majorette or some rah-rah thing was still married to the football star, it’s true and she looked GREAT! She was always very nice as was her hubby and it made me happy to see that she’s now a grandma (a damn good looking one). Another friend also looked great, much better than when we were in high school together, I knew she had become a Weight Watchers devotee and it showed.

Some people had interesting lives and careers and others not so much. One person was living the good life in Hawaii but most seemed to still be living in or within a few miles of the town we grew up in.

I admit that I poked and prodded my psyche for a second or two to find out if there was some part of me that wanted to send out a friend request with the thought that it would probably snowball from there; I decided against it. I realized that despite the fact they were still just an hour or so away from me I knew I wouldn’t do anything to meet up with them or see them or do anything with them. If I didn’t have much in common with them thirty years ago I’m pretty sure I’d have even less in common with them today.

So that’s it I guess, I still won’t be going to any class reunions (I think this year would be the 35th) or reaching out across the years and miles, oddly enough, even if I live another forty years right where I am I probably will never actually see or speak to any of those people, I haven’t in the past thirty years.

How do I feel about that? Pretty good. My advice (as if you asked)? Find the people in this world that make your soul sing and make those your peeps, if you found them on that first day of kindergarten then those are them, if not, keep looking they’re out there, don’t settle.