Thursday, May 31, 2012

The Ultimate Poker Face

Recently at dinner, my friend, Forbes, stopped the conversation with an interesting bit of information.

"So,  y'all, my tooth fell out."

In between mouthfulls of chips and tacos, I got out a "wha?"

"Y'all want to see it?"

My other dinner amigo, Michael, and I answered at the same time.
Me: Yeah I do!
Michael: Uhhh- gross- why do you have it?


Me: Oh yeah, why do you have your tooth with you?

Forbes: Well it came out about thirty minutes ago. When we first got here.

I stared at him as I finished my margarita. My full margarita. As I made a slurping sound at the bottom of the glass, he rummaged in his shirt pocket and revealed a molar. With the root still attached.

Me: WHAT THE!? FORBES!? YOUR TOOTH FELL OUT AND YOU DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING!?
Michael: Shhhhh... Leila- you're being really loud.
Me: BUT HIS TOOTH FELL OUT!
Michael: Yeah, man, what the hell!?


Forbes: I made a really weird face. I thought y'all would have noticed that.

I snatched the tooth from his hand to inspect it. Yep- sure enough- it was a tooth. (My years of education finally paid off).

Me: Forbes- A FACE!? YOU MADE A FACE!?
Michael: Shhhhhhhh
Me: You didn't say anything!?
Michael: That is pretty weird- I can't believe you didn't say something. That's really gross.

I immediately turned to Michael and shoved the tooth toward his face, which resulted in him trying to escape the molar by slamming his head into the wall behind him.

Perfect. Teaches him to tell me to shhhh.

I handed the tooth back to Forbes.

Me: You gotta get that taken care of. Tomorrow.
Forbes: I'm cool. Maybe I'll go in on Monday. (Puts tooth back in pocket).

Hopefully the tooth fairy made it rain for him and threw in a few extra chips for the ultimate "I just lost a tooth in the middle of dinner" poker face. 

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Just in case the dinasours come...

I've told you about my friend, KTO before. She is a life long friend of mine with whom I have shared many memories. She's gone on several family vacations with my parents and me (lucky her....), most of which were to the beach.

During one such trip, we had to take two cars and Katie and I ended up riding with my Dad. He had an SUV and biceps (which are directly related to "getting" to deal with the luggage), so had most of the trip's necessities in his car. Beyond the basic clothes and toiletries- we were also loaded down with a week's worth of food. My parents' beach philosophy is:

You're at the beach. If you're hungry, go make yourself a sandwich or whatever. Don't ask for my help. I am currently at the beach. I will be sitting right here if you cut a finger off or something but there is no reason why I need to go up there to make you're lunch. No- we are not going out to eat for lunch. We are at the beach. Snack? I don't know- I am sure we have something. Go look.

This might sound harsh- but I was in high school at this point. If I couldn't put some peanut butter on two pieces of bread, we had bigger problems.

So- back to the point- Katie and I were in the car with my dad, with all of the luggage and good beach food (for all of those DIY lunches). We were chatting away when we hit a lull in the conversation at which point Katie looked up and said "At least we have all of the food- you know? In case we end up with the dinosaurs or something."

.....


.....


.....

"Uhhhhhhh..... WHAT!?"


Katie then explained to me that she always had the "Land of the Lost" in the back of her head- and was happy to know that in case the ground opened up and sent us hurling through time, we would at least have some rations to get started with.


True?


I was pretty sure what WE were going to eat if a pot hole in the interstate sent us to the Triassic period was irrelevant, but was intrigued none the less. So much so that I am blogging about it 13 years later.

Well done, KTO. Well done. You're right- at least we had the food. And each other? Except I would give y'all up before I let a T-rex get my peanut butter. Don't take it personally.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Just hold your breath and jump

As I have mentioned in previous posts, I have an irrational fear of the sea, or rather, sea creatures. I don't like them. I don't want to be near them. And I don't want to be in a situation where I can't get away from them quickly or punch them in the face (which is hard to do under water). So you can only imagine my inner dialogue when I was on a family trip with a boyfriend and they decided we were going to go snorkeling. I certainly wasn't going to be the reason we weren't going to go. I might be the reason the boat had to turn around and come back to shore- to drop off the hysterical girl- but the boat was at least going to get out there beforehand.

I think the boy knew I was nervous scared shitless (sans the soiling myself), but I really tried to play it cool. The boat ride to the offshore reef felt like it took hours. As everyone else sun bathed and chattered gayly, I alternated between getting lost in scenes from Jaws to trying to participate in the conversation by interjecting two to three words that probably had nothing to do with what was being discussed at the time. I was freaking out.

The boat finally came to the reef and dropped anchor (I think figuratively- I don't think they just drop anchors on reefs- I don't remember). At this time, the staff went over the "free swim" perimeter (like they needed to tell me twice don't get too far away from the boat) and the "I'm OK" signal for divers- the sign they would require divers to give them if they felt like something was awry and needed to confirm the diver's safety. (Major foreshadowing). During their little wrap up where they told everyone to have fun, I went numb. I couldn't believe what was about to happen.

Adults and kids alike pulled on their masks, flipper waddled to the side of the boat, and flopped into the ocean like it was no big deal. I tried stalling by fumbling with my gear, but that only gave me so much time. My palms were sweating, knees weak, arms were heavy. (Lucky for me I didn't eat spaghetti). I could just say "Nope, not gonna do it" but I knew this excursion was paid for. And, in the words of my good friend Mollie, "I am not a pussy." I was going to get in that open water if it was the last thing I did (which at that point, I was pretty sure it was going to be).

I made it over to the side of the boat and my mind went blank as I jumped in.


I immediately snapped to AND FREAKED OUT. Panic attack. MAJOR PANIC ATTACK that got worse with every undulation of the ocean. I looked at the boy like a deer in the headlights- totally panic stricken- mouth open- OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD- splutter- face full of sea water- OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD- another face full of sea water.

My display of "how to be an incoherent mess with a life vest and goggles on" was interrupted by the people on the boat.

"DIVER!!! DIVER!!!!"

"They're talking to you."

I focused on the boat through the tears and salt water.

"DIVER" (as he pats his head with both hands- *safety signal*) "DIVER!? ARE YOU OK!?"

I pulled myself together and limply touched my head with both hands. "Yeah... I'm OK."

Panic subsided to slight embarrassment as I looked around and saw everyone flipping around in the water- even the little kids. (But whatever, those are probably the same dumb little kids that learn how to ski wearing dumb monster helmets and go down without poles).

I took a deep breath and focused on calming down. The motion in the ocean still had me a little nervous, but I was already there so I needed to see what all of the fuss was about. With a little help/coaxing, I finally put my mask on and looked down. It was pretty cool. Fish. Lots of them. In every color that was popular in the 80s. I tried breathing through the supplied blow hole (or snorkel, whatever), and regressed slightly. The combination of hearing my own breath (and then focusing on my own breath) and rocking with the waves caught me off guard and sent me into a slight panic. I worked on it, though, and by the time the "Time to get your ass out of the water" signal was given, I was pretty comfortable.

I don't think I talked much on the boat ride back- only because all I wanted to talk about was how awesome I was for doing that. So what- maybe I did make an awkwardly aquatic scene- but I wasn't going to let a paid for excursion go to waste.... or let any seven year old show me up.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Return to Sender

I have a friend who is in jail that I have sent a few letters to. The first of which was a Christmas card. I tried to get it to him a few weeks before the holiday and, at that point, I was still receiving tons of mail for the people who lived in the apartment before me. Anytime mail was actually addressed to me was exciting (even bills). Unless, of course, it was the Christmas card that I had sent my friend in jail with a big "Return to Sender" on it. He had already been moved by the time my card showed up for him. Here is how that scene went:

I get home and grab the 6 cards out of my mailbox and start flipping through them:
Card from San Francisco addressed to previous family
Card from Austin addressed to previous family
Postcard from London addressed to previous family (WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE!?)
Card from Michigan addressed to previous family (WHY WON'T THEY FORWARD THEIR ^&*^% MAIL!?)
Card from New York addressed to previous family
Card not addressed to previous family- pause- look closer- I recognize that hand writing- DAMN IT- my Christmas card

So my USPS haul that day was 5 personal cards to previous family and 1 returned Christmas card that I sent to my friend in jail.

I took time picking out that card. It was tough. There was this great card that had Rudolph sitting in a recliner sipping on some coffee and behind him, along the wall, were mounted deer heads. When you opened the card it said "They used to laugh and call him names." I got a good chuckle out of it (bastard reindeer) and then decided to go with a lamer, less violence implying card. When I called my good friend and told her about my card selection- she let me know that she had sent our friend the Rudolph card. DAMN IT.

I decided to go big or go home with my second card selection. I would like to point out that Hallmark does not have a "Best of luck in jail" section with cards like "If you drop the soap, just leave it" or "I was going to get you a cake for your birthday, but instead I just made you this shiv" so picking out a card is kind of a tough task. But I found a good one the second time around. I didn't take a picture of the card, but this sums it up:



If this card wasn't a winner, then one doesn't exist. WHO IS THIS CARD FOR ANYWAY!? Friends in rehab? People in AA? Is the liquor thinking of you? Are you thinking of them while you are drunk? Are you thinking of the liquor and then had to send someone a card? If this is what Hallmark is putting out these days, I think I need to look at their job openings, because I could definitely come up with some good ones. Here are some examples that I have already thought of:




Tuesday, May 8, 2012

"Artistic Movies" are so in right now

P.S. (As in pre script... yeah I just made that up- deal with it) Spoiler alert!!! If you have not seen or read The Hunger Games yet and are going to act like this blog revealed some secret plot line for you- don't read it. Also, move out from the rock you have been living under and join society. P.S. (as in post script to my pre script)- in the movie Titanic, the ship sinks. 

I recently went to see The Hunger Games with a friend of mine. We had both read the books and I had already seen the movie, but I told him I would go again if he wanted to see it. The point is- we both know how the story went.

About ten minutes into the actual games, the sound in the theater went haywire. You could hear all of the auxiliary noise but none of the characters voices. Therefore, the scene where the fire balls chase Katniss out of the woods went something like this:

*Birds chirping*
*Katniss asleep in a tree*
Apparently something wakes her up (we're not sure what because we can't hear it)
*Birds keep chirping*
*Katniss freaks and starts running*
*Sounds of whoosh and some crackle as we see flames engulfing surroundings*
*Katniss gets hit with big ass fire ball shrapnel* She is apparently in a lot of pain by her tightened face and open mouth, but we don't hear a gasp.

It goes on like this for a while.

During the scene where Cato and the clan are running around together with mouths open- I lean over to my friend and said "They should have closed captions- *Screaming* *Ahhh**Ahhh*"

During the scene where Rue gets Katniss' attention and tells her about the tracker jacker nest nearby, I made a crude comment about what Rue was saying (she's mimicking a sawing action).

This solely background noise kept going and going and was getting old quickly. People started leaving the theater and I looked at my friend and said "This noise thing is starting to piss me off."

Finally, we got to the scene where Rue is dying and having a conversation with Katniss- which we can hear none of. At this point, my friend- in the middle of an epiphany- looked over and loudly said "OOOHHHH- THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE NOISE." It was dark in the theater, but there was no mistaking my "Areyoukiddingmeyoudumbass" look.

"Really?" I asked him.
"I thought they were doing an artistic approach or something."
"Really?" I asked him again.
"Well why didn't you say anything to me? I didn't know. I hadn't seen it before."
"Really?"

There are a few states of impairment- both hereditary and self induced- that this type of total unawareness is acceptable. And my friend was mostly unimpaired (mostly). His unawareness was totally unacceptable. I toyed with the idea of making him totally unaware of the fact that his ride left him when he went to the bathroom (you know- just a little "don't be dumb" lesson). Instead, I gave him a ride home, and dissected his stupidity the entire way.

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Please just give me my food

Recently, while ordering food, I dropped my custom of using "Cathy" as my name. Just to see what would happen.

Place my order.
Girl taking my order: What's your name?
Me: Leila
Girl: What?
Me: Leila
Girl: OK

Food comes up. I immediately know it is mine because the guy who is in charge of calling out the names stares at the receipt. He looks at the girl who took my order and then back at the receipt. She notices his uncertainty and whispers my name to him.

Girl: It's Lita.

Guy: Ohhhh- ok. Lita. Your food is ready.
Proudly turns to girl who took my order: You misspelled it. It should be L-E-T-A.

Right. Back to Cathy it is.