3:10 to nowhere

The word travelling was originally in this post title, but I took it out, cause it’s one of those words that just doesn’t look right.  So I googled it and turns out you can spell it this way or that way and they’re both right.  But the bonus of looking it up is that there was a banner ad on the dictionary web page for ancestry.com and this was their tagline:  ‘Did someone else in your family have a screw loose?’   I really like it when even faceless, marketing people know that I’m a nutcase.

No big surprise, but somehow things have gone awry at casa lindaloohoo.  Monkey has become a clingy whiner, and no, I DON’T know where he gets that from, and I have become an excuse whore.  I have every excuse in the book about why I have posted so infrequently that I could rightly be considered a guest poster on my own blog.

To be fair, for the entire month of April, we have been sick here.  Alot.  Like, Amityville horror house, head spinning, dueling vomit flyby’s kind of sick.  Listen, if I start seeing flies or blood oozing out of the walls, I am so outta here.

And then I went to Palm Springs for a few days because my friends and their kids needed a bell hop to bring the bags in.  And I was in the small room.  The kind of room where you just grease the walls and spin to get into bed.  Monkey was pretty much the pimento in the olive there.  But it was kinda gorgeous and we had the huge beach entry pool all to ourselves for three days and someone else cooked, so I’m not whining or anything.

Then yesterday, Hubunit and I met some friends and took the train down to Olvera Street in downtown Los Angeles for Cinco de Drinco.  And that was a blast.  Especially the guy behind us talking really loudly on his cell phone:  ‘ . . . I don’t believe it, that bitch wanted money, after she don’t give me no pussy and with her small little titties . . . ‘   And that’s the part I feel I can share with you all.  He pretty much talked like that non-stop the entire forty five minutes.  And then at the end he overheard us discussing Virginia with our friends who used to live there and he interrupted to say ’Did I hear you talking about Virginia?  Yes, alright.  I graduated from the University of Virginia.’ And then he shook our hands as if we were at a proper english tea party.  Wow.  Say it with me:  University of VAGINA mouth.

Then we met even more friends and drank much tequila at a restaurant where the bartenders were drinking too and when our friend ordered one last margarita, they sent her a huge tumbler full of Silver Patron over ice, with salt around the rim.  And things just went downhill from there.

Fully clothed again and on the train ride back home, we were surrounded by a bunch of yuppie commuters and I must admit, the things I complain about are WAY more interesting than what they complain about.

Oh the glamorous life of a stay at home mom.  I know you’re jealous.  All of you.