Sunday Pot-pour-ee

I like small woodland critters as much as the next guy. Well, maybe not as much as the next guy if that guy happens to be some outdoorsy nature-lovin' fuck, like that guy who went and lived with a bunch of bears in Alaska until they ate him. I don't like 'em that much. But I have a reasonable appreciation, to the extent that they can live outside without my infringing upon them too terribly much.

So then I pulled in the driveway and saw a bushy tail hanging out of the garage:

Yep, a family of squirrels have made themselves right at home. There's a couple of spots there right near the top of the garage that apparently provides a hole large enough to accommodate a squirrel body. Kenny said he's been aware of it and just let it go, they seem happy in there and sort of run back and forth in the rafters. I'm of the belief that we don't need to support these Squatters and need to shoo 'em out before they eat absolutely everything we have stored in the garage. Read: many of my boxes of Things that I have stored in the garage.

Internet, should we allow the Squatters to take over the garage space? How long before they assume complete control of the garage and go all Bruce Willis/Diehard on our asses when we open the garage to get the lawnmower? I'm not feeling comfortable at all letting them claim a foothold here. Yesterday there were two of 'em and they were clinging to the brick and fighting it out. I do not appreciate seeing that type of strife as I pull in the driveway. No siree.

Next.

We've had the new Lexus four weeks and a day and today an 18-year old girl rear-ended me. Power was out due to heavy heavy storms and all the traffic lights were out. She didn't feel the need to slow down/stop at the intersection and well, she was 18. I had to pat her and calm her down. Her car got the worst of it, Kenny's Lexus is pretty scuffed and has some dents, too. So I'll have this fun to deal with for the coming week. Par-tay! Ah, good times. And, I was on my way to get some spiritual enlightenment from Mother Meera who's passing through from India, so I missed that. Instead I went to Giant Eagle and bought the fixin's to make pizza and a bottle of Moscato and I'm sitting here getting my own brand of enlightenment.

Next.

Things I found out about my vagina whilst on vacation: Gold Bond powder and Aveda Rosemary-Mint shampoo don't belong up there - they both stingety-sting-sting.

Next.

The Mister and I saw the new Cruise/Diaz movie, Knight and Day and we really liked it a lot. We also saw Toy Story 3 in Digital 3-D, and I liked it, too, even though I'm not much of a cartoon lover, I still liked it, although it wasn't a life-altering experience for me or anything. It was just a movie that garnered a bit of a teary moment at the end, but certainly nothing that I need to see again. Maybe I'm just an asshole-cartoon-hater-with-a-stone-where-my-heart-should-be. Maybe.

Next.

I've been having a weird worry of getting home invaded. I'm trying to deny the thoughts to the Universe because I certainly DO NOT need this to manifest into my reality. In the meantime, weird "warnings" have been cropping up. For instance, while on vacation, sailing around somewhere in the Southern Caribbean, a random phone call made it through to my voicemail and it was an offer for a free in-home security system if they let us advertise in our yard. So we've been locking our inside doors as well as the outside doors, getting her all locked up tight around here. And I'm thankful we have a barkety-bark-bark dog who lives downstairs.

So there ya have it, from Snatch-Worries to Burgled-Worries to Squatting Squirrels and Fender Benders - I told ya, a pot-pour-ee. The End.

An Angry Drunk

While in Aruba I finally found the Perfect Vacation Drink. Now, before you discount that as nothing too tricky, let me tell you that finding the Perfect Vacation Drink takes a tenacious dedication. There are many drinks out there that are fine, but usually have one or two ingredients that keep it from being the Perfect Vacation Drink.

Let's consider the facts and what this means to drinks. I'm..ahem....not in my twenties anymore. I have to be more selective. Anything with too much citrus or sweet and sour mix leaves me hunting for antacids. I can't take the hard whiskeys. I enjoy multiple Gin & Tonics, but they're not exactly tropical confections.

But I did not give up in my quest and was rewarded at the most unlikely place of all: The Hard Rock on Aruba. It was a hurricane blend of banana, coconut and I wasn't sure what else so I asked the bartender for the recipe and he kindly obliged. Below, behold the recipe - complete with diagram - for the Perfect Vacation Drink, compliments of Hard Rock Aruba:

I am not sure why you have to "shout the pina mix" in the glass, but shout it in I will do. "GET IN THAT GLASS, YOU FROZEN CONCOCTION, I AM GOING TO DRINK. YOU. UP!!!!" And that is exactly what I did.

Pardon Me, I Don't Believe I Invited You Up

I've been quite remiss in posting much about vacation. You're welcome. As My Friend Murd (hey, if James Frey can write a book called My Friend Leonard, I can incorporate My Friend Murd in a blogpost, so there) wrote, "Who wants to read about someone else's vacation?!"

But quickly, here are some fun things that I liked about my trip with My Friend Joanne (it seems there are quite a few applications to this whole "My Friend" thing...I'm going to roll with it).

First things first: I was VERY. VERY. BRAVE on this past vacation. On the lovely island of Domenica (dom-eh-neek-ah, not doe-min-eh-ka), I trekked through a rain forest and jumped into a pooling waterfall. See proof above. I was quite apprehensive about the whole thing. I'm still sporting a four-inch long mar on my leg from something that bit the shit out of me in Belize or Mexico in March - one of those countries that has mar-leaving biting bugs. So I'm wary. Plus, I figured, "This is a REAL fucking rain forest, not some make-believe "rain forest" at the zoo in Cleveland - this place has Tarantulas, Boa Constrictors! (snakes that will constrict the shit out of your chest until you DIE!), and probably some jumping monkeys that could leap out and land Right On My Head! You thought I was wary in Grand Caymen with the lizards? That had nothing on this, Sista. I had to tamp down A LOT of apprehension to get out of the tour bus and forge my way ahead. Ahead on the well-travelled path, but ya know, it was still weedy, with overgrown bits and slippery footing.

But! I did it! And when I got down there and saw the Natural Steps (read: scary, slippery sliding crooked stones that are just WAITING to catch you in an inattentive moment and catapult you to the bottom in a flash-second hurry), I almost didn't go further. But then I asked myself my new Life Mantra: "If Not Now, WHEN?? If Not Me, WHO??" and I threw my pack to Joanne (she was already at the bottom, the big showoff) and I made my way to the bottom, threw on my watershoes (hey, I'm brave, but not crazy -there's probably a lot of exotic biters living in that water that I don't need to come into skin-on-skin contact with) and splashed around in the water. See: picture above again.

However, I did not loiter. No sirree. I had this on my mind:

Snatch-crawling fish. Thanks, episode of House. These are Candiru fish, and while they "claim" to only be in the Amazon, how do we really know for sure?? And there's *only* one documented case of one crawling up someone's urethra, but what about the undocumented cases? So that's the sort of horrible warnings that weigh on my mind and so I had to get out before something climbed on up there that wasn't invited.

So then, yesterday during Father's Day at Kenny's parents house, I still had my feelings of bravado as I took a walk into their backyard for the very first time (it's been five years, I finally worked up the nerve after trekking through a rain forest). They live in a half-million dollar house in Brecksville, and I'm still afraid of their wooded backyard. Doesn't that help put my fear of the rain forest into clear perspective? But I went out there, because some kids were over and they told me how the backyard was filled with small baby frogs and I wanted to see it for myself. And oh, p.s., I was in flip-flops, ANYTHING have crawled right onto my bare skin out there, it was very risky. Then the 11-year-old girl came up to me with her hands cupped and I jumped back and shrieked at the top of my lungs, "DON'T SCARE ME!!!", thinking she was going to throw something from *eeek* NATURE at me, but all she had was a teeny tiny baby frog in her hand that she wanted to show me.

I later caught their dad mocking me.

They think they're going to get me to camp by the end of summer. I told them that instead, I was going to show their girls how to stay in a 5-star hotel and order room service and get extra shampoos.

Nature's overrated.

TMI. Seriously. But here it comes anyway.

Another moment in my life, with Kenny taking measure of my interest in vaginas:

K: "So, would you want to lick her (a random girl we crossed paths with) vagina?"
T: "Well, no."
K: "Why not?"
T: "Well, I'm not particularly interested in her in that way."
K: "What type of girl would you be interested in?"
T: "Uh, None."
K: "A Nun?? Why, because you think they'd be all pure or something?"

And now, unfortunately, this is something you can't un-know. Sorry about that. Not really, but it just seems polite to apologize at this point.

Aruba!

Pretty!

Swimming around in a postcard:

Scrubby land and pretty sea:

And a giant black donkey dick, because, well, why not:

I hope your enjoyed your trip to Aruba. Especially the donkey dick part.