Ouch.

I have a well documented love affair with Anderson Cooper.  He's incredibly good looking, intelligent, funny, and generous.  What is not to love?  When I mention this, people undoubtedly look at me, cock their head and say "But isn't he gay?"

HE HASN'T COME OUT YET!  DON'T SPOIL MY DREAMS!

I'm sure if he met me, I could convince him to come to my team.

At the end of the school year, we had "Name Day" where you could select a new name for the day.  I selected "Mrs. A. Cooper."  I thought it was very clever until a teacher came up to me and said "Heh...heh.  Alice Cooper.  Funny."  Not Alice, ANDERSON!!!!!

While I am visiting my loving grandmother, she is intent on squashing out any positive self esteem that I might still possess.  This includes regular conversations about my weight, hair, and clothing.  In one breath she is encouraging me to order a heinously bad for you dessert and in the next, she's insulting me.  If I weighed 85 pounds, it wouldn't be thin enough for her.

Of course, she does not think that I should have a crush on Anderson.  Her answer to me? 

"Non-Mommy, you can't be with Anderson Cooper.  He's too small for you!  You need a big man!"

Apparently, his celebrity isn't a problem for her.  The fact that I will never meet him isn't a problem for her.  The rumor that he is gay isn't a problem for her.  No, the problem is that he's too small for me.

Shoot me now.

Danger!

My grandmother is notorious for getting words wrong, leaving out words, and horrific spelling.  It adds to her charm. 

So imagine my shock when the following conversation happened:

Her:  Did you put sunblock on your face this morning?


Me:  No, my makeup has sunblock in it.  If I'm not going outside, I don't worry about it as much.


Her:  Huh.  I don't think any of my makeup has the HIV in it.


Me:  The...HIV?


Her:  Yeah.


Me:  HIV. 


Her:  ??


Me:  I'm really glad your makeup doesn't have HIV in it.  That seems like a really bad idea.

Have Patience

Traveling isn't always easy, especially with family members. Particularly with short, cranky, old grandmothers. On this particular trip, I have this song in my head the entire time.

I could only find this song with this little puppet show, sorry.

Did any of you ever know Music Machine?

Magnetic Ribbon Theory

I am a very impatient driver.  Unfortunately for me, I have spent the better part of the last year in the car, commuting.  This allows me a great deal of time to analyze the drivers around me.  After significant time in observation, I have now been able to develop what I call the Magnetic Ribbon Theory.  Since this was an unfunded, unofficial research project, I will continue to call it a theory.  However, I am always right (ha!), and I think you will agree with me.

Problem #1 - Minivans

Minivans are not always a problem on the road, but often times the people that are driving minivans are very distracted.  They are carrying precious cargo and feel the need to drive at least under 10 miles an hour under the speed limit.  The age of the driver does affect the speed, as well as the socio-economic status of the driver.  For example, an old rusty minivan with dirty windows, a driver that is chain smoking and 18 unbuckled children are bouncing around will most definitely drive in a slower fashion than your local soccer moms.

Can you please explain to me why old people like to drive minivans anyway?  It's not like they ever use the back seats or need the extra space.  I genuinely don't understand.

Problem #2 - Gold or Silver Cars

A car's color is very telling.  We all know that insurance companies and cops believe that bright colored cars yield speedy drivers.  I am here to tell you that, in general, gold, silver or even white cars are being driven by drivers that tend to drive more slowly.  Young or old, poor or rich, these cars are putzing along.  Is this because they are people that like to play it safe?  Safe car color, safe driver?  Or is it because they are all driving Buicks, and we all know that old people drive Buicks.

I would also like to know why Crown Vic's are the popular choice for the old folks.  It looks like a police car.  They will never drive them quickly.  Hmmm.

Problem #3 - Handicap License Plates

In no way to have a problem with disabled people's rights to have great parking.  They deserve it!  I do, however, have a problem with a handicapped driver driving as if they are turtles.  Come on, people, get to your prime parking more quickly!

Problem #4 - Magnetic Ribbons

We've all seen them.  Ribbons that can be attached to the side of a car, professing your patriotism for our country, support of troops, support of breast cancer awareness...we get it.  However, it's like the magnetic pull of those little tiny magnets is somehow pulling on the cars brakes, rendering them incapable of driving at a speed greater than 20 MPH on surface roads, 45 MPH on highways.  This problem is, without fail, consistently maddening.  I challenge you.  Find ONE car with a magnetic ribbon that is not poking along.  Just one.  It won't happen.  Something about those magnets takes over the driver's ability to drive!

Problem #5 - A gold or silver minivan, with handicap plates and a magnetic ribbon or three

The death knell for your morning commute.

Folks, as a kind community gesture, rip those magnets off, step on it, and get out of my way!

HRH Non-Mommy, Princess of Non-Mommyhood

This week, my little, cranky, quirky (oh boy, you have no idea!) grandmother comes for a visit.  She is basically all that I have in the world of grandparents.  I am actually pretty close to her, even though she's a little...unique.  You can read about one interesting experience I had with her here, or here, or here.

Anyway, I'm going to spend the day with her on Friday and thought we would watch the Royal Wedding together.  I want to make it into a theme party!  There is nothing I love more than a good theme party.  I was thinking tea and sandwiches, and now I need to find some hats or something that looks rather distinguished.  I think my grandma would look so cute wearing a hat or a hair piece.

I did consider making some sort of feather hair piece or something, but I am NOT crafty.  I need ideas, people!  How can I make something that is fairly cheap and easy, and yet looks like this...

or this (WOOF)...

or this...

or even this?

I'm not opposed to finding some sort of cute, dressy hats but the problem is that finding a hat like something that would be worn to a royal occasion requires money.  I know that I could go the thrift store route, but that just gives me the heeby-jeebies.  Lice, here I come!  I did see some interesting hats online.

Is this some sort of satellite dish?  What is the point of wearing a hat on the front of your head?  And also, Princess Eugenie, you appear to be channeling your inner Mennonite.  I'm confused by this outfit.

This is the kind of hat I wear every day to recess because I won't get sunburned in a hat like this.  You know, being half-albino and all.  Apparently if I glued some feathers on it, and sold it for hundreds of dollars, I could be a fashion trailblazer myself!

Cruella DeVille, Cruella DeVille, if she doesn't scare you, no evil thing will.  To see her is to take a sudden chill!  Cruella, Cruella DeVille!

Wow.  I don't know if I should do the Mexican hat dance, or use it as a barf bowl, or maybe even as a cistern?

From "My Fair Lady," Come on Dover, come on Dover, come on Dover, move your bloomin' a$$!


So, as you can see, I think that a hair piece would be a much easier thing to deal with.  Help, crafty internet people!

Grandma Got Run Over by her Neighbor

 My grandma is hilarious.  She's really an interesting bird.  I could write an entire blog about her life alone.  However, it is the story of her being run over by one of her neighbors that I am sharing today.

My grandmother lives in a housing development filled with old people.  She spends a lot of time with a group of widowed women.  They go out to eat and see shows together.  You'd think, since this group is pretty much in their 80's, that they would be boring and drama free.  NO, SIR!  They fight as if they were in high school.

Two of the characters in the group have been battling one another.  The first Fighting Geezer is Sally.  Sally is old.  Really, really old.  She's tottery, forgetful, and looks as if a strong wind would blow her over.  Sally has been good friends with Dorothy, Fighting Geezer number two.  Dorothy had a stroke recently, so Sally has been helping her by driving her around.  Sally and Dorothy regularly go out to eat, and Sally always cuts Dorothy's food for her because Dorothy's hand strength is weak since her stroke.

Recently, Sally and Dorothy got into a fight.  As a payback, Sally declared that she would no longer cut Dorothy's food for her.  THAT SHOWED HER!  So Dorothy called up my grandmother and asked her if she would cut her food from now on, because Sally wasn't going to anymore.  When I heard this story, I laughed so hard.  The silly drama!  The best part is, they still go out with one another, even though they are mad.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago.  Sally, Dorothy and my grandmother went out to eat at their country club.  Sally, who is very frail and probably doesn't even remember her own name, drove.  Don't ask me why!  Every time I see Sally, I think that she's on Death's door and can't see.  Doesn't fill me with confidence to think that my grandmother is riding around with her.  So Sally drove the ladies to and from the country club.  My grandmother was helping Dorothy into the backseat and buckles her in.  She walked around, put one foot into the car, and was about to bring the other one into the car, when suddenly, Sally floored it.  This caused her to run over my grandmother's foot that was still on the pavement.

My grandmother found her shoe on the other side of the parking lot, and her foot was badly bruised, but nothing more. 

The next day, Sally showed up at my grandmother's house, apologizing profusely and handed her cash to get new shoes or to put toward a doctor's visit.  My grandmother was insulted, but I told her not to be.  Sally was just feeling guilty.  Then Sally called my grandmother four times in a row, prompting my grandmother to stop answering the phone.  Then Sally showed up AGAIN, acting as if she hadn't been there before, and handed my grandmother more money.  I'm just glad that a) Sally isn't my grandmother and b) my grandma was okay.

I'm going to choose to ignore the fact that there are people like Sally, all over the world, driving around when they shouldn't be, and instead focus on the fact that my grandmother got run over by a senile woman because the senile woman was fighting with her friend and wouldn't buckle her up.  In honor of this story, I composed the following song:

Grandma Got Run Over by her Neighbor

(Sung to the tune of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer)

Grandma got run over by her neighbor

buckling a friend into her seat

you can say that old folks are pretty boring

but I say they're an entertaining treat!

She'd been riding with Senile Sally

and we'd begged her not to go.

But she's a stubborn little old lady

and chose to be a friend, not a foe.

When they found her in the parking lot

at the scene of the attack

there were tire marks on her foot and

her missing shoe in the lot, way in the back.

Grandma got run over by her neighbor

buckling a friend into her seat

you can say that old folks are pretty boring

but I say they're an entertaining treat!

Now we're all so proud of Grandma

she's been taking this so well

See her there sipping her cocktails

encouraging Sally her car to sell.

It's hard to walk without a shoe

and a foot swollen and black

But we just can't help but wonder

if she'll go back?

Grandma got run over by her neighbor

buckling a friend into her seat

you can say that old folks are pretty boring

but I say they're an entertaining treat!

Now the shoe has been repaired 

and the foot is almost healed

I think my grandma needs a helmet

and a full length body shield.

I've warned all my friends and neighbors

better watch out for yourselves

they should never give a license

to an old lady who hears bells.

Grandma got run over by her neighbor

buckling a friend into her seat

you can say that old folks are pretty boring

but I say they're an entertaining treat!

Cocoon Revisited: The Continuing Saga

Cocoon:  Part 1

Given my love of the geriatric crowd *ahem*, you would think that I would be finished with the senior trips forever. However, in the interest of spending quality time with my grandmother and doing activities with her that she finds meaningful, I recently found myself attending yet another fun filled senior citizen day trip!

The day started when we met the senior group at their church.  A group of teeny, tiny old folks were huddled under an umbrella, chatting and waiting for the little bus to arrive.  Immediately, one tiny woman caught my eye.  She was very, very small.  She could easily wear child clothing and shoes, and I doubt she even weighed 80 pounds.  But that was not what caught my eye.  This dear woman, who I will call Martha, looked exactly like this:

[Insert the "Psycho" music here.]

Change the hair, and you know exactly, EXACTLY what Martha looked like.  She'd clearly had a poor nose job and her lips were spread too thinly.  She was like a car accident.  I couldn't look away, even when I wanted to.  Frankly, Martha scared me!

We got on the tiny bus and the driver came down the aisle to ensure that we were all buckled in.  I was introduced to the crowd and then had to hear stories from them all about when they were in school.  Old people love to tell me teacher stories.  There was a group of women who continued talking when the group leader was trying to address all the bus riders (they probably couldn't hear her) and one of the old women got mad and yelled "HUSH!" at them.  I knew it was going to be a good day.

Finally, we were off!  To the local historical society we were headed!  At the historical society we were greeted by a woman dressed in clothing from the late 1800's.  She took her job very seriously, even when the group of loud talking old ladies didn't listen to a word she said.  We toured some gardens in a local park but the mood was ruined by a group of women working out together blasting "Burn, baby burn" on their radio over and over.  Not only was it distracting, I kept wondering why they didn't play the entire song?   We also were interrupted by a homeless man searching for cans.  Yes, this definitely helped me visualize what life was like in the late 1800's.  Sure.

Being a foot taller than everyone else, I tried to remain at the back of the group so the shorties could see.  I was also slightly embarrassed at my grandmother who kept worming her way to the front of the group and then wildly waving her arms shouting "Non-Mommy!  Come up here!"  But the entire trip was ruined for me when I'd glance over and accidentally see Martha.

She scared me!  Every time I looked at her I had to stifle the urge to yell "Run!  Save yourselves!" at the children playing in the park.  I had to remind myself that she was just a scary little 80+ year old and not REALLY Michael Jackson.

We went inside a barn for the next part of the tour.  Wow.  A barn.  I was underwhelmed at best.  They also were very excited to see that the local plaster chicken from a fried chicken restaurant was safely housed in this barn.  Are you kidding me?  Excited about a dumb plaster chicken?  We then took a tour of a house and were ushered to the dining room for a delightful tea.

The tea is when this trip got REALLY interesting.  My grandmother and I were seated with four others at a table.  One was a man who really couldn't hear, one was a 90 year old who was a cracker jack (I would have sworn she was late 70's), one was a very athletic and funny woman, and then...then there was Dorothy.  Dorothy was supremely, profoundly deaf.  She can't use sign language and she can't read lips.  She communicates by having people write to her on a notepad.  Unfortunately for me, there were two problems:  1) Dorothy didn't have her notepad and 2) she was sitting directly next to me.

The waitress came with two tea choices.  She asked Dorothy what she wanted and Dorothy shouted "I can't hear a word you say!"  Dorothy then looked at me for help.  I yelled "Do you want Earl Grey?"  She still didn't understand, so I mouthed emphatically "EARL GREY!"

"I still can't hear a word you say!"

"Just give her Earl Grey!" I snapped.

Next, the waitress brought out cucumber sandwiches.  I can't STAND cucumber.  I was destined for a hungry day.  When she brought out those sandwiches, I just had a gut feeling that dessert would involve my arch nemesis, strawberries.  But first, we received two mini quiches.  You know, those tiny little quiches you can buy at Costco or Sam's Club.  They are the size of a Reese's peanut butter cup.  The old people, who appear to be able to survive on minimal food, were thrilled.  What a great lunch!  I, on the other hand, could feel my body eating its own muscle and fat in order to survive the hunger strike.

Throughout the lunch, Dorothy would tap me on the shoulder and shout "I can't hear a word you say!"  Good thing she couldn't read my lips, or my mind.  It wouldn't have been pretty.  She would periodically tap me on the shoulder and make conversation that I was unable to respond to.  She must have told me 50 times that she never knew those little tongs were for sugar cubes.  She thought they were for olives.  I would just smile and try to respond "I can't hear a word you say!"  

My favorite part of the lunch was when the people at the table literally ripped their hearing aids out of their ears and discussed the benefits of their particular hearing device.  At this point, I'd rather be sitting with scary Martha.

Finally, FINALLY our hostess brought out dessert.  Strawberries.  I just knew it.  All foods I can't stand.  I was getting weak with hunger and was about to bite off Dorothy's finger the next time she tapped me.  The old people were thrilled.  What a filling lunch!

How do they survive?  I mean really?  They are full on 1/4 of a cucumber sandwich, two mini quiches and some strawberries?

We got back on the bus and Dorothy sits behind me.  She won't leave me alone because now I am apparently her BFF.  Probably because I smiled at her and didn't yell at her "Shut up, old lady!"  I was getting car sick, but my green pallor didn't seem to stop the tapping.  She told me things like "Oh look, a two headed dog!"  or "Aren't you glad we didn't fly on this trip?"  and my favorite "I can't believe I didn't know that those tongs were for sugar cubes!"


I nearly wet my pants when I had to say goodbye to Martha:

I haven't slept since.  Between Martha, Dorothy and all the old people, it was a rough, rough day.

The things I do for my grandmother.

Cocoon Revisited

 I got my first ever "Senior Discount" two years ago yesterday.


Before I tell you this story, I need to give you some background history. You see, I've never really been a fan of the older generation. I tend to think that, in general, some of them can really be pushy simply because they are old and think they deserve to be treated in a certain way. Sometimes I think I have some sensory issues, because the smacking/licking/coughing noises that people naturally make are very, very difficult for me to stand. And this generation makes a lot of those noises. I think you need to know that I do believe there are really sweet, thoughtful old folks out there. But the church I was forced to go to as a child was FULL of very mean, judgmental, pushy old people. I was one of the few children there. This experience really jaded me. Since the death of my grandfather, my grandmother has rapidly gone through a transformation into a miserable old lady. OK, end of gross generalizations, and onto the story!


Two years ago, I went through my own personal hell called a DayTripper trip to see the terracotta warriors from China. My grandma really wanted to go. I knew this would be a hard experience for me, but I was willing to do it for her. She signed us up for one of those old people tours. We met the bus at a park and ride. As we got on the bus, I was the only, I do mean the ONLY non-silver hair on the trip. No one was even remotely close to my age. Every single person on there was old. As I walked to our seat, I heard a woman say "She's too young to be on this trip. Is that allowed?" As we were seated, the smell of strong floral perfume almost knocked me over. They started the bus ride by offering us a snack. We got a tiny can of juice and our choice of a hard granola bar (in the green package) or a soft granola bar (in the silver package).


We rode the bus north to a Chinese restaurant. Before going in, we had to put on DayTripper stickers. I made a beeline for the bathrooms to beat the old ladies to the toilet. The line was massive. The walkers really made the restroom line even longer. While waiting to use the bathroom, one old lady told me that she would have to go before me because she really had to go to the bathroom. The lady behind me told me that if the handicap stall opened next that I couldn't take it, because she needed more room.

We ate lunch in tables of 10 people. They put the food on a Lazy Susan in the middle. My grandma kept spinning the Lazy Susan while people were serving themselves food. We did have an interesting conversation about living in Alaska. Did you know that in Alaska they don't pay state or sales tax, and they get PAID to live there?


Back on the bus we went, with lots of creaking and groaning as they got on. We arrived at the Bowers Museum in Santa Ana, California. It's a really cute little museum if you're ever in the area. We piled very slowly off of the bus and waited our turn to go into the terracotta warriors exhibit. We went through a gemstone exhibit that was pretty interesting. The "butting" in line and pushing began here. The old folks all want to see what they want to see, when they want to see it. They seem to be incapable of waiting their turn. Suckers like me who tried to wait their turn got gypped out of seeing anything. Soon, it was time to see the warriors. They handed all the old folks those phone-like speakers to listen to the tour. The entire crowd stopped and crashed into one another, with shouts of "HOW does this thing work?" The entrance was completely blocked. It never dawned on any of them to move to the side and figure it out.


When we got in to see the warriors, I found that there were about 5 other DayTripper groups in there, not just us. It was a sea of silver hair and walkers. I was appalled at how rude and inconsiderate they were. They would literally walk right in front of people to see. They would push. It was maddening. My grandma was just as bad as the rest of them. The old folks kept setting off the alarms because they would lean in too closely to the exhibit. It was hot in there, I couldn't see anything, and I was sick of the pushing. They were so inconsiderate. I really thought I might beat an old person to death with my little speaker thingie.


The exhibit was interesting, but disappointing. If you don't know anything about these terracotta warriors, a farmer in China was digging a well when he found a massive cavernous room full of life size Chinese warrior statues, and horses. There were hundreds and hundreds of them. They are all unique. Emperor Ziagoaoogupaiuhiuhsiuhkns made them to protect him in the afterlife (I can't remember his name). The museum made it sound like they had 100 of these warriors. They really had about 5 of the warriors and then other artifacts like roof tiles from China. A little disappointing. But I must say, those statues are VERY interesting, and I'm sure VERY creepy in mass numbers!


I told my grandma that I was appalled with the behavior of the people, and embarrassed (including her - which I didn't say). She said she knew that she was rude, but she wanted to see it. Not good.

We had to wait a long time while the rest of the old folk finished touring the museum. Then it was back on the bus, for water and cookies. I was very, very car sick and had to pee so badly. As we were nearing the end of our tour, the tour guide said "Would you like any hard candy?" I thought to myself "I bet you anything I know what candy it is. It'll be butterscotch candy, and those candies wrapped in strawberry wrappers." Typical old people candy. Guess what? I was correct.


When we got to the car, I told my Grandma how much I needed to use the restroom. We weren't far by freeway from the house so it shouldn't have been a problem. My grandma insisted on taking the long way because it's more scenic. We caught every G.D. red light on the way. I was in misery. It ended up taking us double the time it normally would have. I was writhing in pain when she says to me "Let's stop at the post office and pick up the mail.  I want to see if my Netflix came today." I exploded. "You have GOT to be kidding me!" and I went off. I ended with "And if we stop and pick up the mail for a Netflix movie, I will pee all over that movie, how would you like that??"


It was a long, long, hard day for me. I immediately, after peeing, got back into the car and went to Barnes and Noble for some peace and quiet. I then went to Long's and bought some chocolate.


I never, ever will get old!!!

(Monique, I have another post that I am going to write about that happened to you and I on that same trip.  Just wait!)