impulsive, me - why yes!

To quote my favorite blogger, "Impulsivity breeds adventure." - Allie Brosh

Because most of my life runs on this premise - I am sure it will come as no surprise to any of you who know me, that this quote is very near and dear to my heart. (there is the occasional - impulsivity breeds misadventure - as well, luckily this was not one of those times) I so often jump in feet first and then as an after thought decide to ponder, 'hmmm - I wonder if there is water in the pool'. I have attempted, in the not too distant past, to be level-headed, plan, and 'act-my-age' but that doesn't seem to work out either, so I figure why fight it!

So, I met this guy ... don't all the best stories start out this way :)
I will reduce 4 hours of texting ... (yes, I did say 4 hours-yikes) ... and well ... (wink, wink - you know) into a few short lines and to spare us both, I shall paraphrase.

him - "would you like to get together?"
me - "i can't i am with my friend, what about tomorrow?"
him - "i can't i am riding tomorrow"
me - "you have a bike too, that is hot - i love riding, when are we going?" (notice the very subtle way that I invited myself - classic!)
him - "how about after i am done with work today, be ready when i call"
me - "if i don't have plans already then sure, i won't wait for you"
him - "you won't wait for me eh? well how about before i go to work"
me - "of course not, would you want a woman who would? ;) sure that sounds good, see you then"

True, a very abridged version, but the point being that mere hours after meeting this person, that I have never met before, I agree to go on a motorcycle ride with him. After several minutes of giddy excitement, because I do really love to ride, I get to thinking...
hmmm, you know I don't know this guy at all...
I only trusted him because he was talking to my friend...
What if I go with him and he kidnaps me...
we wreck...

he kills me...

You must agree with me that the fact that self preservation kicked in last among my thoughts when presented with a motorcycle ride is, well, ok - fine - crazy!!

In a rare moment of thoughtfulness I texted my friend and sent - his name, phone #, and where he worked, just in case I vanished. With a note saying, 'if u don' hear from me by tomorrow, here is his information'. I am going to admit that this was a unique burst of foresight on my part.

He arrives, and we get through the brief, hey - how are yous and set out to his bike...a beautiful big Harley, orange with black saddle bags - fabulous, it is very possible that I was drooling. (over the bike! the bike! - sheesh!) I hop on the back which even has a seat back (that I will be gripping - whiteknuckled - in less than 30 seconds. What? Just because I am impulsive doesn't always mean I am brave) - completely grinning from ear to ear, he helps me with a helmet and then it happens...
the 'oh shit, what am I doing!!' sink in the pit of your stomach.

And given that I have absolutely no poker face what-so-ever (I really need to work on that!), I look up at him wide-eyed and say, 'it has been a while since i have ridden...' and before I can I finish he smirks and says '... so be gentle with you?' - sexual innuendo blatantly apparent, then leans down and kisses me. Easily one of the sexier moments in my recent memory...sigh...and what do I do...in my true, sexy, oh - so - cool, fashion i ... burst out laughing.
Yep, go me!! So much for sexy kitten, turns out I am closer to a six year old on the carousel for the first time - ugh.

He starts the engine and the fluctuation for me between, panic gripping fear and complete exhilaration was making me both flushed and then pale within in nanoseconds of each other - it is probably a miracle that I didn't pass out...the adrenaline rush was intoxicating! It took me easily 5 minutes into the ride to start to be able to relax (and stop praying that I would survive...it was a rather long litany at first of:
'dear god what am i doing,
i am totally insane,
why the hell do i always do this crazy shit!
wow, isn't this awesome!!
the wind feels so great
nothing around you
rats, I wish I had a jacket if I fall off I am screwed
I hope we don't wreck, my son will kill me - well, if i am not dead already
dear god what am i doing...[repeat])
but he was an excellent driver and I could tell was driving more cautiously just so that he wouldn't scare the crap out of me.

Then euphoria set it and it was glorious! I was so deliciously happy, I leaned forward - kissed his check - and told him thank you for such a wonderful time. The sun was perfect, the sky was clear and blue with fluffy white clouds dotting the horizon, the wind whooshing past us, the feel of the road, my arm around the driver (and one still gripping the back of the seat, I wasn't that euphoric, haha), the smell of the grass and trees and spring flowers, there is just nothing like it!! When you lean into a turn and the feel of the road....Mmmm...heaven, simply heaven. And I remember thinking as we spirited along and my heart was literally two sizes bigger at that instant in time with this overwhelming feeling of happiness, this moment of joy, freedom, risk, love of living, vanquishing fear, and being present in the ephemeral 'now' - this is why I do these crazy things. Because without these moments of throwing caution to the wind, letting your spirit soar, doing something that probably even scares the sh*t out of you - what are we living for?

It was arguably the best thing I could have done for myself that day (and honestly, the best thing that has happened to me in many months), it reopened my perspective, reminded me what I cherish most about myself, let months of stress and turmoil melt away, relite the spark that was sorely in danger of going out, and even brought me a little closer to god (hehe)...

So, sky diving anyone?? :)

bandit kissers

So, a little descriptive of me; I am small, ok just plain short, sort of walk like a penguin (description given to my unusual gate in high school), can never do anything with my hair so it is usually up and out of the way, and have the shape of a pre-pubescent boy. The only thing that I truly have going for me is that I smile a lot and have a sense of humor.

Now with that back story out of the way I have to admit to being puzzled (and yes, truth be told...flattered) that twice in my life I have been singled out by what I am going to affectionately call 'bandit kissers'.

The first time I was sitting alone finishing a glass of wine and writing at a small Irish pub - the man walked in and ordered a drink, looked over at me and just walked over and kissed me...like 'really' kissed me. I didn't know him - had never seen him before, nothing. I have to admit, it was a pretty darn good kiss, made better by the shear spontaneousness of it. I burst out laughing (my standard reaction to totally awkward and unexpected events) when he pulled away, which probably did little to help his ego - but it was so completely shocking and refreshingly bold. The surprised bartender and I looked at each other and he just raised an eyebrow and the man was asked to leave. But he still gets points.

However, the second (third, fourth, and fifth) time it happened - I put it this way because oddly enough it is the same man who keeps doing it, was altogether different. I absolutely think next time he should wear a cape and mask to add to the mystery. I was outside of another Irish pub...hmmm...maybe I shouldn't go to Irish pubs anymore (or perhaps I should try some new ones-haha!). Anyway, this man I know through a friend of mine, so while we are not strangers I certainly have never witnessed him do this before. He walks up, doesn't even say 'hi' when I said hello to him, takes my face in his hands and plants a kiss on me with a good 3 second hold time, pulls away, smiles, and walks inside - without a word!! Again my reaction was the same...burst out laughing - followed by a WTF text to our mutual friend!! Now it has become his tradition to surprise me with a kiss, I use the term surprise because I never know if he is going to do it or not and it would appear that he has such a capacity for random behavior that it takes me completely off guard every single time.

In conclusion, here is to the 'bandit kissers' out there, it is bold, swashbuckling, and utterly disarming (provided you do it well), and in a world where men now go to spas, have dogs the size of the average squirrel, and are forced to examine their 'feminine' side (yikes, if I wanted that I would date women!!) - I raise my glass to you and say 'bravo'!!! (and also, blush a little) :)

downhill

As you all know from my "winter storm" story, I am not a fan of winter and I never have been. So what on earth possessed me to agree to go skiing I have no idea. My friend asked me to go and I was so reluctant that she decided to pay for my ski lesson if I went, so finally I relented, figuring if worse comes to worse at least I can go to the lodge and hide out by the fire. Now that I look back on it, I probably should have just gone straight to the lodge saved myself the rental fees, embarrassing flailings, and had a beer.

Everything started out nice enough, I met her at her house so that I could borrow some snow gear because at the time I had my 'artsy' clothes (capes, plumed hats, and kid gloves) but no real outdoor gear. She and I were almost the same size so it sounded perfect...until I saw what she was loaning me. She wasn't loaning me her clothes but clothes from her brother! So while she looked like a snow-bunny goddess, with tight gortex pants and matching cute waist-cut jacket, I resembled a baggy Michelin man in red. Not quite the look I was hoping for. So trying to look on the bright side of my clearly unattractive apparel I figured, well at least this way when I am rolling down the slopes I will have some padding.

Just as we were leaving her house the snow began to fall and what should have taken us two hours took four. So I had to dash through renting equipment and boot fittings to make it to the lesson. Keep in mind this is my first time ever on skis or in ski boots. So may I suggest that it would have been nice if I had been informed that ski boots look like normal boots, but really they pitch you forward and if you don't keep your knees bent when you stand up you end up toppling onto your face.

Which I did,
twice,
before I got the hang of it.

So right then I am thinking my chances of not breaking every bone in my body by the end of the day are not looking good if I have fallen twice before I am even on skis.

Tripping (but at least no more falling) every few feet or so I make my way over to the ski counter to get fitted - meanwhile my beautiful ski bunny goddess friend has already met a guy, started a conversation with him, and waved farewell to me - the other reason that I really didn't want to come. I knew she would do this, I just thought that it would take a little longer than 5 minutes. I was peeved, mostly because I was scared of dying, and she was leaving me, and they wouldn't find my body until the summer thaw, and there would be no one to feed my cat, and ... ok, stop - breath - you may be over-reacting...true. But still!!! Fine, I cheered myself by having delightful visions of myself gliding past her down the slopes, with ease and grace... ha, that will show her!

So...
skis-check,
boots-check,
poles-check,
bladder control diapers-check!!

I am off to the slopes and my lesson ... oh joy!!

The instructor calls us over to the bottom of the kiddie slope, which might as well have been Mount Everest to me (when in reality, i think it may have had a 2 degree slope), I am sure I had the facial expression of a deer in headlights. He shows us a few tricks for getting out of our skis and to my deep amusement how to fall!!! I laughed out loud on that one, was he kidding!! I wanted to learn how NOT to fall - falling I had down pat! (get it, 'down' - oh nevermind)

We were ready now to go to the top of the kiddie slope, so I shuffled over to the ski lift and...
was totally unprepared for the force with which the bar hits you in the back of the knees...
causing me to lose the minuscule amount of balance I possessed...
then I accidentally sat on the 'j' bar - which doesn't work because it is not made to hold any weight, at all
so...
then I fall off the 'j' bar (so glad I had that lesson in 'falling'---grrr!)...
land with a 'flump' in the snow and manage to get my ski stuck. Well, this is certainly going NOTHING like I had visualized, and yet exactly as I expected.

After much embarrassment on my part, being helped by two people, to get out of my skis, back on my feet, and back in my skis; I made it to the top of the hill. So we are all stranded up there with the only way out of this situation being to actually go down the hill. And despite that there was no choice, I was seriously looking for alternate ways to get back to the lodge and avoid going down the slope. (I could toss pride out the window, take off my skis and just crawl back; I could pretend to all of sudden be going into labor so that the ski patrol would have to come get me; I could train my mind in the ways of the jedi masters and just teleport myself there...) dammit, it was my turn...the instructor came up behind me and shoved me down the hill...it went like this...

ahhhh
fall
curse, curse
struggle up
ahhhh
fall
curse, curse
struggle up
ahhhh
fall
whimper, sniffle, curse
struggle up
ahhhh
fall
whimper, whimper, hysterical laughter
struggle up
fuck it!
remove skis and walk down

Now, in a mental lapse that I am still unable to fully understand, I went up again...why??? I felt guilty for not taking advantage of the full lesson time that my snow bunny goddess friend who totally abandoned me to die on the kiddie slope paid for! Dusk was starting by this time and I figured if I could just get down once more it would be something of an accomplishment and then I could feel totally justified in NEVER doing this again.

My mistake in this plan...waiting to be the last one to go so the instructor would not push me...this time it went like this...

breath
ski 2 "
stop
turn slightly
breath
ski 2"
stop
turn slightly
lose pole
ahhh
oh shit
sliding too far off bunny slope
oh shit
ditch
oh shit
orange fence
oh fuck, fuck, fuck.

I am in a ditch, on my back staring up at the sky, with my skis tangled in orange fencing which I can't reach, it is getting dark, no one was around or saw where I went, my friend will never even come to look for me because she is off with Jules the dark haired mogul master, and I am going to die here and be eaten by vultures.

Perfect!!!

Tears of embarrassment, frustration, and betrayal begin to build up...well, this is just ridiculous my mind begins to fuss at my ego - get up idiot and don't just lay there getting cold and feeling sorry for yourself...you are not in the Alaskan wilderness, it is a fricking ski resort. Several deep breaths later, I manage to push myself into a half sitting position and extricate myself from my skis (which I left there). Then climbed out of the ditch, which did take a few tries, and once at the top, collapsed in frantic laughter happy to not have to be eaten by wild animals.

So, no more downhill adventures for me, unless Sven the Olympic ski god comes himself to escort me personally down the slopes!!!

1000 names

There is a native american saying that is " a loved child has many names " so this one is for you monster muffin!
________________
Perhaps I am feeling sentimental today (gee, how soooo like every other day, right?!? haha) but I was reminiscing about a recent text exchange with my son - who I usually refrain from writing about. But today, he will just have to forgive me...not that I am going to tell him of course :)

It went something like this:
me - "hi angel fish, how was your day?"
him - "good - how was yours? and what did we say about the names mum?"

(side note here, that every since he was known about I have called him a myriad of nicknames; angel fish, monster fish, sunshine, honey bear, monster muffin, sunny bunny, lamb, sweetie, fluffy-snuggle, - you get the idea... I seldom if never use his given name, unless he is in trouble, which is also seldom to never. He was fine with this, up until a little over a year ago and I was given the 'cease and desist' on the nicknames, which naturally I refuse to do :) ... what is the point of being a parent if you can not have these small victories!!)

me - "glad your day was good pooka muffin, mine was fine still at work. and you said not in public, this is text so :P"
him - "mum! really!! no more nick names"
me - "one day you won't mind so much monster bear angel fish honeybear :D, b/c u know it means i love you, besides im ur mum"
him - "mum!!! REALLY??!! i dont have to answer you!!"
me - "u wouldn't do that honey pot - secretly you love it!"
him - "do not! and i am going to delete you if you do that again"
me - "hahaha!! no you wouldn't, besides it is such fun to tease you with it - you made my day :) qt"
him - "fine, glad to have made you smile, now STOP IT! :) "

These are fairly typical conversations between he and I, and they brighten my day every time. So along these lines of communication or the growing lack thereof due to the onset of his teenage years, I got to thinking about what are some of the key things that I would tell my son (if he would listen).

1. Always keep a bottle of champagne in your refrigerator, because there is always something to celebrate.

2. Big stuff usually becomes little stuff with some time and distance.

3. Leave revenge up to God, he is bigger and better at it.

4. Be bold, be brave, and be fearless - if you risk nothing, then that is exactly what you will get.

5. There is ALWAYS time for a hug and a kiss before bed.

6. Tell the people you love and care for what they mean to you, life is short and you don't always get to do it later.

7. Chicken soup really does help a cold.

8. No matter how old you get, you will absolutely always be my angel fish...hehe...couldn't resist

9. Be happy and positive, because if things are or are not going well now, one thing is for certain, they will change.

10. Smile...if you are sad - it will make you feel better, if you are happy - it will show, if you are mad - it will confuse your enemies. :)

You know those aren't bad things for me to remember too - hahaha.
Isn't it funny that he teaches me more than I could ever teach him!! Thank you sweet honey bug :)