St. Petersburg Garden

St. Petersburg Garden

Saturday, May 22, 2010

The Call of The Wild

It all started out as a regular Friday night. We watched our usual shows, relaxed on the couch and then it was time for bed. Charlie (a.k.a "the baby") was jumping into bed to sink into his pillows beneath the covers as we were turning out the lights. Just our normal routine.

Ooooowwwooooooooooo. What the hell was that? I jumped up in bed, all traces of sleep now gone. Mike stirred, wondered what was going on. My main concern was "the baby". I searched under the covers for the little tyke to make sure he's okay when all of a sudden it hits me. Wait a minute. That noise. The baby. Hey.

Charlie was howling in his sleep. Seriously. Who knew that even happened? Sure, we all know dogs dream, but howl? It was like a mini wolf was sleeping under the covers. Who took Charlie? What did they do with our baby? Had Charlie secretly been reading Jack London when we weren't home? Was he now dreaming of the open plains?

We have ourselves to blame for this. We changed Charlie's diet to the raw food diet. He has allergies & it seemed to best way to go. If he were in the wild his food wouldn't be cooked. We researched all the benefits of the diet. We were sold. Nothing was ever mentioned about howling.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

The Finger

I know what you're thinking. The finger. Yup, that's a good finger, generally gets lots of use especially when I'm driving and someone cuts me off but not the one I'm talking about here. This time it's the pointer. The left hand pointer to be exact. Why this one? Why now? Well, I need my real one back. I'm pretty sure someone snuck in last month and replaced mine with someone else's. A guy's to be exact because I have some serious man pointer right now. The pain is pretty intense and it seems to be concentrated in just that finger. Something is just not right.

It all started about a month ago. I woke up about 4am with an intense pain in my finger. What the hell....I thought maybe I had a cramp. Who gets pain like that in a finger? I didn't think much of it. Until the next night. When it happened again. Only this time, it didn't go away. I thought I'm getting on in years, can it be? Sh*t, do I have arthritis now? I blew it off. For sure that's what it is. I just have arthritis in my pointer. By week 4, it seemed a bit strange that arthritis would wake me in the night with this intense pain. Damn, maybe I should stop cracking my knuckles. It was time to see the doc. I went for xrays. They came back normal. I'm currently waiting for my blood work so I don't know what the final results are. However, if it comes back normal I'm screwed. My finger is growing in size. I can't straighten it anymore & it hurts to move it. Plus finger has decided that I don't need much sleep and I'm tired. The pain is too intense that I can't sleep through the night.

Back to the real issue - who took my finger? How did they get in here? We have an alarm and a dog. Things like this just didn't happen in the Big Apple. Sure the weather is great in the Golden State but finger thieves? The least they could have done was made it a useful theft. What's a pointer good for? I can't flip a nice man-pointer at a motorist for cutting me off. Think of the effect that middle finger could have gotten me.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Can people really change? What if they're crazy?

You ever wonder why some people, who have spent their lives wreaking havoc on the lives of others, all of a sudden think of themselves as wonderful saviors who are trailblazing down the road of sainthood? Did they just wake up one day and forget about their past? Did they think that everyone else forgot about what they've done? Were they forgiven by some act of Divine Intervention and now therefore think they are a Vessel of Peace? I'm thinking, not so much. Especially when they are still up to their old ways and try to ruin the lives of others.

The only explanation is that we must be living in an alternate universe. Really. There isn't any other logical explanation. You can't be malicious and self-serving your whole life and then one day expect that the world will love you because you've supposedly turned into a charitable person. Or can you? Well, then, there just might be another explanation. See "Certifiable" in the dictionary.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Sometimes you wonder, why bother?

I've been told for such a long time that I really should start a blog. I kept putting it off because the thought of people reading something written about me, written about my life, something so personal wasn't an idea that filled me with joy. Sharing my stories with the world felt strange. Don't get me wrong - I love writing. Just not about me. I'm all about fiction, fantasy and other people's lives.

It didn't dawn on me that for as many people that kept telling me it was time to step outside of my comfort zone and just do it there were just as many people who really could not have cared less about what I was writing. I mean, when you really think about it, who the hell was I to actually think that there were people who were genuinely interested in what I had to say? Sure, I posted a link on Facebook alerting my friends that I was finally going live with that blog. I thought that would create a buzz. I think it created a fizzle. Even my own mother hasn't read this yet. Yes, I've had to send some reminders but come on, do I have to get all old school on you now? Start advertising on the bathroom wall now? Well, actually, come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea. You get some really good reading done in those stalls. For a good time, call....

Monday, May 10, 2010

To Wine or not to Whine

It was a perfect day. Blue skies, warm, sunny, slight breeze. Feels like a wine day. At least for us it was. For someone else it was more like a whine day.

Scene of the crime - Smokehouse Restaurant. Winery - undisclosed to protect the not so innocent. Come on McGruff, figure it out, you have the name of the restaurant. We had just sat down and were watching the wedding-in-progress to our right. To our left, a small stir seemed to be a-brewing. Sunglasses always on allow me to perfect my eavesdropping skills. Apparently a small breeze had stirred the sun shade and BAM! Or was it bam....

Did I miss the tornado that just whipped through the area and slammed the shade into her head? What the hell is going on? I need details. Where is our waiter when we need him? "The Victim" was just sitting there holding onto her head. No sound. No movement. But "friend of victim" seemed to be crying. The pain must have shot through victim and straight through to her friend. That's pretty intense. Good thing we weren't sitting too close. Oh wait, here comes our waiter.....

"We're traumatized too", I tell him, "I think we need something for free". Hey, why pass up the opportunity for some free sh*t? Ok, so he knew I was kidding. Wait, maybe I wasn't....

Management was called. Ice was brought over. An accident report was filled out. Funny thing - victim's family didn't seem too fazed. It's like they really just wanted to get their food. It was lunchtime. Maybe they're used to the drama queen.

Our waiter asked the people sitting at the table behind "the victim" if they were ok or if they had gotten hit too. I guess they thought it was funny. They must've laughed. They said they were fine since the sun shade barely touched them and it barely touched "the victim". Hhhmm, interesting. Althought not as interesting as....

The Fire Department. That's right. She called the Fire Department!

When you hear "911 what's your emergency" you can think of a woman calling from a winery saying a sun shade poked her in the eye and she needs help. I'm sure that qualifies as an emergency. Next time she should just put down the glass of Merlot.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Things that make you go hhmmmm...

I recently finished a walk for autism. I know, I know, what does this have to do with red hair. Nothing but this is my blog so deal with it. Our crew spent months doing whatever we could to raise money - beg, plead, sell merchandise, harass, advertise. Well, some of our crew anyway. It became a friendly competition to see who could raise the most money.

Many of us posted a link on our Facebook pages where donating was just a click away. Or not, apparently. But here's the deal - what the hell is with that "like" button? If you aren't going to donate and help raise money for my charity does it really matter if you "like" my cause? Seriously? Especially if you ignore the request to give? I can't tell you how many people would see a link to how much money we were trying to raise or how much of an effort was being put into training and they would click that "like" button yet they wouldn't open that wallet. Sure, we all know times are tough. But is your wine a tax write off? Last nights take out? Not so much. I'm just saying...

For those of you that have raised money for a cause or are in the process of doing so, you know what I'm talking about. It's nice to have support but that only gets you so far. Cures aren't found on support. We need the funds, the greenbacks, the moolah.

Now for those that contributed or are fundraising - go ahead and click away. You can like all you want.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

If you weren't born that way....

I have a friend who rocks the red. When we met I was so excited. I didn't care if she was nice or cool or friendly*. Screw all that - she was a redhead! We're a dying breed. Rumor has it we could be extinct in 100 years. You really don't bump into too many of us.

Then, one day it happened. I don't know how, I don't know why. Some things just can't be explained. I swore she was a natural redhead. It looked too good to not be hers. I think I cried. Okay, maybe not really cried but I was shocked. How could I have been fooled? I thought about that for a while. She might not have been born a redhead but she was definitely meant to be one. It was only a matter of time before the red came out. You can't stop it.

*faux redhead is cool, friendly & nice.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Words of Wisdom?

"You'll be gray by the time you're 25. I was". Crap. Seriously? I got the red hair from my paternal grandmother, Nana. I think she was trying to prepare me for life's little surprises. Whatever. I was 9. I hadn't even accepted the fabulosity that being a redhead was & now I was going to have to start dying my hair? The quest for a perfect match had begun. Every store, every brand. Hold up the hair to the box. Not even close. I would never give up.

I know, you're probably wondering was Nana right - was I gray at 25? Thankfully no. Sure, those little suckers have been popping up everywhere but red is something you don't want to mess with. It's tough. It's fiery. It won't go down without a fight. But a girl needs backup. After more than 20 years of searching, I found a perfect match. Bless that genius Frederic Fekkai. At home hair color that is an identical match - but like a mean trick it was given to me & then taken away. Once sold at Sephora, it's now missing. Where did it go you ask? I don't know but I'm desperate. Rumor has it Target will be carrying the line but I've yet to see it. What a cruel world.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Here goes nothing....

Welcome to my life. Or whatever parts of it that I'll let you read. I'll start with an easy one. Hair color. Yes, I am a natural redhead. No, I don't dye my hair. Yet. I'm not going to lie. I don't want gray hair, it's not my color. Red is.

All my life, this is the one question that has managed to follow me where ever I have gone. Strangers, friends, family - I am immune to no one. Even my hair guru - who is the cutting master - seems to ask me the question every time I see him: Is that your natural color? (He always follows it with "I know I always ask you that" & he is a styling genius so I forgive him). What can I say? I knew what I was in store for at a young age. But that's a story for another day. Ah, the tough life of a redhead.