My Discomfort

I slept late on Thursday morning and couldn’t find my motivation to get dressed. While enjoying my breakfast of Purely Elizabeth blueberry lemon oatmeal, I watched part of comic Tig Notaro’s standup special, “Tig Notaro: Boyish Girl Interrupted.”

Tig is one of my favorite comics. Her quirky timing along with her charming, not quite deadpan delivery, always has me in stitches. I’d never actually watched this special, though, and was totally unprepared to see her slender form dressed only in blue jeans, her top having been discarded at a point prior to my tuning into the program.

Tig is a breast cancer survivor, and I don’t think I knew that until I saw her bare chested on the television. Was I shocked? Yes. Women don’t just bare their chests, even chests without breasts, on television. Right? Well, apparently Tig does.

At first I had a difficult time watching the special. It’s like I didn’t know where to look. Didn’t she know her shirtless appearance would cause discomfort among some viewers? “Holy cow, lady, put your top back on,” I thought in a really loud internal voice.

But then I forgot to be uncomfortable. And I began to cheer her bravery in the midst of her comedy. What a badass.

Now I need to see the special from the beginning. I imagine the reactions of her audience as she first removes her button down shirt. There’ll most likely be some gasps. People won’t know where to look. But me? I’ll be cool with it. I’ll tell those uncomfortable folks to just chill. Tig’s got a point to make and you’re going to want to be looking when she makes it.

Peace, people.

Snapshot #241

For some reason today’s post magically disappeared from my WordPress site. Thank goodness two of my blogging friends had already liked it, so I could copy from my notifications.

Be sure to click on the link for the story–I kind of had nightmares last night.

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2019/06/14/snapshot-241/

Snapshot #241

This guy was poised next to my side of the garage when I came home to Doright Manor from having lunch with a friend on Thursday.

I’d walked past him probably four or five times as I carried groceries into the house. As I hefted the last of the groceries, a 30 lb. container of cat litter, out of the trunk I happened to see him, after which I dropped the litter on my foot while screaming something unintelligible and most likely profane.

I think we’ll call this one, “Holy Effing Sh*t! It’s a Water Moccasin!”

Studly Doright came home and took care of the problem. I could have, but why take the chance of wounding his ego? Right? 😳😳😳

Tragedy in the Forest

Our elder cat, Scout, and I were lounging on the back porch yesterday afternoon having a heart to heart talk about the birds and the bees. Scout has been spayed, so it wasn’t THAT kind of talk. Instead, we were captivated by the appearance of what I believe to be a barred owl that makes a showing at Doright Manor every evening around 5 p.m.

It looks a great deal like the owl found on the Audubon Society’s page:

I told Scout that she wasn’t to try to make friends with the owl, as such an attempt wouldn’t end well for her. She assured me that she wouldn’t leave the safety of our screened-in porch, but she hesitated to vouch for her younger “sister,” Patches, saying something along the lines of, “The idiot will most likely be shoved, I mean, might accidentally run right out the door and into the grasping claws of that owl.”

There’s no love lost between my felines.

Within seconds of our conversation we heard a ruckus coming from the lake.

To me it sounded as if a predator had absconded with one of the offspring of our pair of nesting egrets. Ours aren’t as large as those pictured below, and would make a tasty snack for an alligator or even a turtle, but from the sound of the commotion something swooped down from the sky and alarmed our great egrets.

Scout turned to me and in all seriousness said, “Gee, I hope that was, I mean, wasn’t Patches.”

Such concern.

Peace, people!

I Don’t Mean to be Difficult, and Yet

I tend to be an annoying person. One would think that since I’m aware of this tendency that I’d be able to temper my behavior and know when to cease and desist. One would be wrong.

Even in the midst of my most annoying times, and even as my brain is yelling at me to shut the hell up, I continue along the path of greatest annoyance. It’s a talent of sorts, I suppose.

Take my new dairy-free, mostly vegan diet for example. Any time I have an opportunity to dine with someone other than Studly Doright, I lecture myself about how to handle my food requirements.

“Listen, Leslie,” that’s what I call myself. “Just peruse the menu, and don’t make a big deal of your dietary restrictions. No one else at the table needs to hear what you can and can’t eat. Just order and be done with it.”

Easy enough, right?

Instead, once I’m in the actual ordering situation I’m all, “Hey, do the shrimp lettuce wraps contain any dairy? I can’t eat any dairy, and you do not want to be around me if I accidentally ingest anything with dairy. The gas emissions alone are enough to choke a grown man, and I’m not talking about an average grown man here. I’m talking about The Rock or even Chuck Norris in his prime. And then, the bouts of diarrhea and/or constipation are absolutely devastating. I’ve lost 22 pounds over the course of two bouts of digestive distress brought on, perhaps, by my intake of dairy products. And you know, I’m not technically a vegan; however, I know that vegan fare is totally dairy free, so it’s safe for my digestive system and won’t result in a bout of the squirts and the subsequent resulting hemorrhoids, so that’s why I’m asking about the shrimp lettuce wraps, in case you wondered, which you probably didn’t, but still….”

About half a sentence into the above ramble, my brain is calling me all sorts of awful names and warning me that I’m going to die alone, friendless, and unloved if I don’t stop speaking immediately. Do I listen? Naw. Stupid brain.

So, I’m having lunch with a friend on Thursday. My self lecture has begun, but this time I’m thinking about applying duct tape to my mouth and merely pointing at my food choices. That’ll work, right?

Unexpected Treat

Our daughter. Ashley, has been visiting us at Doright Manor since last Wednesday. She was supposed to fly home today, but the flight she was on was overbooked. Delta airlines offered $1,000 to anyone volunteering to be rebooked on the same flight tomorrow. Her response?

So, we have our favorite daughter for another night! I’m excited because I get to introduce her to my Meetup group at dinner tonight. Studly Doright is happy because he got to introduce her to his work buddies this afternoon. Ashley is happy because she gets another day of rest and relaxation. It’s a win win win situation.

Peace, people!

Photos from Girls’ Day at Universal Studios

On Wednesday evening my daughter, Ashley, who’s visiting from Illinois, and I decided we’d drive to Orlando. Studly Doright had suggested we go to one of the theme parks, offering to give us his hotel points if we wanted to spend the night. We were as giddy as little kids, and promptly made plans to visit Universal Studios.

We drove over on Thursday and went to Universal City Walk for an early dinner and a movie (Aladdin!) after checking into the Doubletree hotel. We didn’t stay out too late, though, because we planned to be at the park when it opened on Friday morning.

We arrived at Universal by eight a.m., along with those who had early admission because they were staying on property. To our surprise and delight we were waved through by one of the workers and were allowed to board the Escape from Gringott’s ride in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter along with the early admission crowd.

We rode every ride we wanted to, and one of those twice, never waiting in line for a ride more than 20 minutes, thanks to good timing and express line tickets. It was a magical day.

Above, we posed outside of Hogwarts.

Those critters above are from the Men in Black ride.

Ashley, below, wore her protective goggles with style and grace.

Below, the dragon surprised Ashley by beaching flames into the sky. It was intense.

We had fun in Toon Town:

After we posed for the two photos above we rode a couple of rides that left us soaking wet. My only regret for the whole day is that I didn’t think to take photos of us looking like a couple of drowned rats. After we left the park we had to stop at a turnpike oasis and change clothes. My tennis shoes are still wet 24 hours after the adventure.

We’re back at Doright Manor now, recuperating from the trip. Exhausted, yet happy.

Peace, people!

Oh, Happy Day

My daughter arrived in Tallahassee to hang out with us for a few days. Why? Just because she could.

Two days later…

There’s my baby girl! She and I really have no plans. We’re just going to enjoy each other’s company and see if we can manage to stay out of trouble. There are no guarantees on the second part of that sentence.

Peace, people!