5 for Friday (On Monday) Shocking Weekend Discoveries!

Good day all!

Sometimes the 5 for Friday takes a little bit because I'm in the middle of living my life and don't realize how absurd things are until I've lived everything in a certain time span. Besides...who can't use a little Friday on a Monday?

Anyway, this past weekend I make several shocking and funny discoveries and OF COURSE I'm going to share them with you!

5)  Bel-Air Cantena believes in education...even in the bathrooms.

Yesterday was Hubby's birthday (HE'S 50!) so I took him out for brunch at a place of his choosing.  He chose Belair Cantena, a sort of Cali-Mex place that's new to our town.  (And if you don't have one in your town...move.)  We've been to this place a handful of times and it's always been super crowded and quite noisy so when I have taken a chance and used the restroom, all I hear is crowd chatter.  Well, yesterday we were the first ones there for brunch, so there weren't that many people in the restaurant.  I used the ladies' room and what, to my surprise, do I hear than a Spanish lesson!  Yes, piped into the restrooms is a woman saying English phrases, (We had a meeting, nevertheless, he did not show up.") and then two forms of Spanish, the first spoken by a man, the second by a woman, follow.  Not that I learned anything, mostly because I don't believe I've every used the word "nevertheless," but I did try, which made my stay in the restroom far longer than normal (for me).  Hey, when was the last time I willingly spent quality time in a restroom?  (Well, except for Von Mauer, but that's another story.)

4) Who knew the key to my weight loss was racks of expensive clothing?

So my town got a Von Maur store recently and I've sort of mocked it for being a store that does not cater to to anyone but skinny rich women. And when people wrote posts on Face Book about how glorious the bathrooms were...well...I mocked them for that too.

Who knew this store would be the key to my new, and currently successful, exercise program?

For MONTHS I've been trying to get my body out of bed and go for a walk before work each morning.  Nothing has worked for me. I just hit snooze 11 times and then get up at the last possible moment to run from my bedroom to my office (in the bedroom next to mine) to start work.  BUT then I visited Von Maur and that all changed.

First of all, the bathrooms are not oversold. They are, quite possibly, the finest bathrooms public or private I've ever used.  They are bright, shiny, clean, there are shelves in each stall for purses and bags, and the stalls are ROOMY!  (They pipe the piano music from the store into the bathrooms.) I made a point of using one yesterday and I met a woman walking in as I was walking out. She looked at me, looked around at the marble appointments and the clean floors, and said, "I may not want to leave."

Oh yes, I get it.

But that's not what's getting me up in the morning. Nope, it's the promise of buying clothing there!  Yes, the prices are ridiculously high.  I mean, a blouse for $148 is WAY over my budget.  BUT the clearance racks are huge and generous and great for the penny pinching shopper.  AND...wait for it...the plus sized department is, relatively speaking, MASSIVE.  Sure, it's not as big as regular ladies' departments, but it's far larger than any other store I've been in and the clothes are PRETTY! They aren't tents, they aren't ridiculous, they are clothes made for actual people who would actually wear them!

So, faced with the NEED to shop there, I made a deal with Hubby. If I get up every weekday morning for two weeks and go for a 20 minute or more walk, I get to buy something from the clearance rack.

I am six days in...four more to go.  I CAN'T WAIT!

3) Is this a Farmer's Market or the Love Boat?

My mother has a boyfriend.  No, my father didn't suddenly pass away, but I realized this past weekend that my mother, whether she believes it or not, has an admirer.

See, my mom makes a point of talking to every veteran she sees at the Farmer's Market. That's admirable and I love hearing their stories.  But there's this one gentleman we see every weekend. He now stops by our booth every Saturday to chit chat. At first I thought it was cute.  Now,I realize he's not there to talk to US, he's there to flirt with my mom! He stopped by last weekend and Mom was on a food run (because everything at the Waukesha Farmer's Market is so yummy) and I told him she'd be back in a couple minutes, that we could chit chat. Nope. He was not interested, in fact, he was downright disappointed. And he walked away.

This weekend he stopped and she was there and OH, MY the smiles and blushes and happy little patter that they exchanged.  (Is this what it's like, for my kids to see Hubby and me talk romantically to each other?)  when he FINALLY left I teased her about it.  I mean, my parents have been married for 51 years and now she's flirting with this GUY?  Of course MOM denies anything, says that at her age she doesn't have the energy to do anything about anything.  (And of course, you know, she's MARRIED) All I'm saying is that I think the lovely older gent thinks he's making a love connection.

2) Apparently, Hubby thinks Scooters Detract from one's Sexiness

The age old question for adults is, "What do we talk about if we don't talk about our children?"  Well, I can sort of answer that...because apparently Hubby and I are now at an age where we can turn anything into a debate.

Case in point:  We were at a stop light near our house Friday evening.  There was a man riding one of those rally scooters, you know, the ones kids ride pell-mell through Walmart when no one's watching them...or the scooters.  Anyway, there was something about this scooter, it was red, and shiny, and new, and the sunlight hit it in such a way that it caught my eye.  (The man on the scooter WAS NOT SEXY. Let's just get that out of the way.)

I made comment that it was a nice looking scooter.  Hubby agreed. I made a few more comments, I have no idea what about, and then I said, "Yep, that is a sexy scooter."

"No such thing." says hubby.

I dug my heels in, because...I have no idea why. "No, I think it's sexy."

"Scooters are not sexy, ever."

And this is when the conversations whirls into outer limits.

"So you're telling me, if Heidi Klum or Tyra Banks IN THEIR PRIME sat on that thing, it wouldn't be sexy?"

Hubby says, "Not only wouldn't it be sexy, it would make whoever is sitting on it less sexy."

"So wait, Tyra Banks, in her prime...with the Victoria's Secret Wings, sitting on that thing, not sexy?"


"Nope," says Hubby.  "Not Heidi, not Tyra, Not Gisele."

I'd forgotten about Gisele.  "So not even Gisele, all glammed out, on that scooter...still not sexy?"


Hubby says, "Nope."

At that point we pulled into the driveway and I realized we'd been discussing this for several minutes.  I was relieved. At least I know now that we can truly talk about anything, no matter how stupid, and fill the time between now and when we both go to our great reward.

So I've got that going for me.

1)  Hubby has an epiphany in the bathroom.

How long have I been ranting about public bathrooms and how I think they need to be standardized?  Only forever.  Well, this past week, Hubby FINALLY understands what I'm talking about!

He was at Kwik Trip to get coffee and use the facilities.  (He's on the road a lot, so he has to make us of public facilities.)  While in there he noticed signs that the faucets were now touch faucets. You touch them, the water turns on.  Everything else, he said, had to be operated manually.  And then he said the words I've longed to hear for so long:

I finally get it.

WA HOO!  I've been griping about bathrooms for so long, and FINALLY my husband, my life partner, the guy I talk to more than anyone else (and he says he loves talking to me, but I'm fairly certain I wear him out some days) FINALLY gets what I've been talking about.

Such a giant weight is off my shoulders. Someone finally understands!

Can you see me doing a happy dance?

And then there's this honorable mention, because I'm sassy like that.


The Swingers all think Sue's balls are delicious.

As many of you know, there are two choirs in my church:  the pie eating choir and the wine drinking choir. Saturday there was a picnic for the wine drinking choir. We were all to bring a dish to pass, beverages and meat would be there.  It was a lovely time!  Really lovely and thank you to Mark and Rhonda who threw the bash. (And I'm so glad they only live a couple doors down from us!  We didn't have to fight for parking!)

Anyway, the hosts have a back yard swing that seats two or three so I sat there with another lady and after sitting there a bit, she announced that she and I were swingers. This little bit of naughtiness was met with a round of laughter (because clever wordplay is applauded in this group, especially if it's a little naughty) so we kept that joke going.

Then another lady brought her dish to pass:  yummy little nuggets of peanut butter, honey, coconut, chocolate and quinoa.  SO GOOD! WELL DONE SUE!

However...Sue formed these nuggets into balls.

And thus this comment was thrown around:  "Have you tasted Sue's balls?  They are DELICIOUS!"

So yes, a little naughty word play is allowed in the wine drinking choir...and yes...the swingers all through Sue's balls were delicious.

And I want the recipe!

Ninja Pig in My Teeth: Not the Weirdest thing Hubby and I Discussed this Weekend.

WARNING! 

 This post contains some elements that may be too adult for anyone under the age of 14.

Good evening!

So this weekend was a bit of a revelation for me.  Due to the lousy weather and the fact that our children are now adults and no longer spend time with us, (Unless one of their cars is broken) Hubby and I had plenty of time to spend together and actually...talk.

When you've been together as long as Hubby and I have been, it's a wonder we have anything left to say to each other that don't involve the words "cat litter" or "muscle ache."  The kids are old enough now that we're not monitoring their day to day everything, so we don't talk about them as much. (Sorry kids!) And since we both work from home, we don't have a lot in the way of fun office stories to tell.

You'd think we be bored, but then a weekend like this happens.

It started with the drive to Walmart.  Now, I know you think I'd have given up on Walmart after the "mini-soda" incident, but I have not.  I still like that if I have a weird shopping list there's one place I know I'm going to find everything in one place.  And we had a weird shopping list full of grocery, yard, gift, and storage items.

It was raining HARD on Saturday and, as we pulled out of the the Sunset Family Restaurant parking lot (If you live in Waukesha you need to check out their breakfast menu.  Nothing fancy, but solid food.) Hubby says, "That car behind us...now that's something that pisses me off."

I look in the side mirror and I see a gray vehicle without it's lights on. When it's raining and gray, if you are in a gray vehicle you are all but invisible.  "Yes," says I.  "That's not safe."

"Oh no," says he.  "I mean, not having your lights on, that annoys me.  But it's the other thing he's doing that pisses me off."

I look again. I notice nothing.

"It's not raining that hard." My dear husband of many years glances in the rear view mirror.  "It's not

But is it raining hard enough to set the wipers to 'high?'

raining that hard, and he's got his wipers on full high like it's pouring or something."

I'm going to give you a moment, much like the one I took, to let that sink in.

My unflappable husband, my rock, the one who puts up with all my quirks (although he has been known to privately mock some of them) has an odd thing that wildly annoys him...and I'm just now finding out about it?

How is this possible?

"Let me get this straight," says I.  "You aren't as annoyed by the fact that the car behind us is all but invisible because he's not smart enough to turn on his lights, but the fact that his wipers are going a bit too fast for rain conditions has got you all tied up?"

"Yes.  It's stupid to run your wipers that fast. It's not raining that hard."

"You're as nuts as I am!"  I shout gleefully.  All these years, I thought I was the irrational one with my rage at unmade beds and plates of co mingled Christmas cookies.  Nope, turns out...Hubby's got a thing too!

Now, that was going to be my complete blog...but then the weekend of conversations got weirder.

Sunday evening, a time of day when I normally don't go anywhere or do anything, Hubby convinced me to go out for dinner.  We went to the new Belair Cantina  that just opened in the monstrosity of a shopping center hubby lovingly calls his "new coffee shop."  I've never been to Belair, but the minute I get to any new restaurant, the same thing happens:  I turn into the world's biggest food critic know it all.  It's annoying, really.  I annoy myself, but I can't stop. Blame it on 20 years of watching Food Network, because I can't blame it on any childhood experience or cooking talent of my own.

We get there and we're enjoying our tacos and I'm spouting all kinds of nonsense about "farm to table" produce and "never frozen" meat and "Asian influences" on my taco.

Good lord.

Anyway they seat a couple next to us and we're eating and they're reading the menu and the guy asks us what we're eating. We tell him, and I suggest the vegetarian tacos because, yes, in the middle of my foodie mania, I will order vegetarian just to seem smart.

I'm such a moron sometimes.

Anyway, the woman actually orders the black bean and corn taco (which is very good by the way) but does not order the Ninja Pig taco, which is a sort of sweet pork taco and it's yummy.  (You'll need to know that taco name in a minute.)  The guy opts for the burrito, which is massive.  They dive into their food and we're eating and all is well. 

Then, randomly , the guy looks at me and says, "Greatest movie of the 80's?"

Oh it's on!

I answered, "Breakfast Club" as did hubby and the couple agreed. This began a conversation about movies so in depth that the waitress offered to push our tables together.  We declined, but kept talking and then the subject of Bob and Brian, my favorite morning radio show came up and turns out, the wife listens to B and B as well so we shared stories about that. It was so fun ...and so weird, because when we're out we don't generally become besties with the people next to us.  

During our talk, I mentioned Hubby and I had been together for almost 30 years. The man looked at me and laughed and said, "And you still like each other?"

We all laughed, but it is funny to think about...in this day and age, when relationships fall apart at a blink, Hubby and I have managed to stay together and stay best friends.

Oh, oops. Almost got mushy there.  

Upon leaving the restaurant, Hubby and I stopped at the local liquor store to pick up a six pack of the beer he'd tried at dinner. This is a new hobby for Hubby.  (A hubby hobby. Who else is laughing?)  I don't mind because that just leaves more wine for me!  (We're at a delicate balance in the fridge right now.  It's getting very close to being more alcoholic beverages in there than anything else.  Is that a problem?)

On the way out of the store I mentioned that he should remind me to floss as soon as we got home because, "I have a chunk of Ninja Pig in my teeth."

"That's a blog title," says he.

And it should have been.

Except...

On the way home, we passed by a little four resident apartment building we've long called "The Gates of Hell."  (If you live in Waukesha, it's on the part of East Moreland that's 25 MPH, but everyone goes 40.  If you live in town, you know what I'm talking about.)  Outside the building was a recliner, sitting on the curb for anyone to take.

"Hey, we could pick that up."  I suggest this because we've been thinking about getting a recliner.

"I'm not taking anything that came from in front of the gates of hell," Hubby says.  "You know someone died in that chair."

"Someone was murdered in that chair."

"Right. And I don't want any murder death chair in my house."

This is where it gets nuts.  "And you just know someone overdosed on heroin in that chair.  So that makes it a murder, death, heroin suicide chair."

"And I still don't want it in my house," says he.

"Oh, but YOU KNOW someone did some kind of sex fetish thing in that chair."  (See, you should never allow a writer to let an idea start rolling downhill in her brain.  Things go really wrong quickly.)

"So then it's a death-murder-heroin-suicide-sex-fetish chair. And I STILL don't want it in my house!"

We stop at a light and I have a brilliant idea!  "That's a blog title!"\

Now hubby, in spite of his thing about windshield wipers, is still the more logical of the two of us.  "No, you can't," says he.  "You have kids who read your blog. You can't be putting up a title about a death-murder-heroin-suicide-sex-fetish chair at the gates of Hell."

He's right. Of course he's right.

So I'll just put it in my blog....and put a warning at the top... and let you people sort it out!

And yes, when we got home, I did floss out the Ninja Pig.