Why my Older Sister is A MONSTER!

I text my sister a thousand times a day but we never talk on the phone.

Last week, I was sitting in a hotel eating dinner when my phone rang.  I looked and saw it was my sister calling and froze like a deer in headlights.

My brain started shouting:

Oh shit.

Why is she calling me?

Did something happen to one of my nieces?

Would she call me or my parents?

Oh fuck.

Did one of my parents die?

Did BOTH of them?

Is she dead and the people at the crash are just calling the last person who texted?

Could they get in her phone?

Shit.  Shit.  Shit.

Is it Gramma?

This is going to be the last moment where everything is normal and everyone is alive and fine.

Order a shot.  Face this with liquid courage.

(Drinks shot).

20 minutes of psyching myself up

(Call sister).

Sister:  I already figured it out.

Me:  what?

Sister:  The game you were playing with Baby Seyi last time you were here.

Me (cautiously):  Heads Up

Sister: I know

Me:  What is wrong with you?!?!

Sister:  what?

Me:  Don't ever call me again without sending me a text first saying no one is dead!

Sister:  Ummkay

She has no idea what she put me through!!

What are Phones Even for Then?!

I never make phone calls.  If I am meant to talk on the phone why are there SO many convenient ways NOT TO?!

So, on the rare occasion I do call someone they assume someone is dead or I am on fire.

Today, I called someone to have this conversation.

Me yelling:  I am driving to the airport and there are PRAIRIE DOGS!

Them confused:  okaaayyyyyy?

Me still yelling:  just prairie dogging all over the place!!

Them still confused:  ok

Me realizing they don't get it and still yelling:  I have never seen one just...where it lives and I thought it was a piece of wood that looks like a prairie dog then I saw a bunch of them just doing that prairie dog pose IN REAL LIFE!  Outside.

Them:  I am at Home Depot.

Me realizing they are not sharing my joy:  I gotta go.  I was just excited and I needed to call and yell about prairie dogs

Them: kbye

Some people just do not appreciate my joy in wandering the world.

The Mystery of the Ubiquitous Cat

My cat, Watson, is a stalker.  Every time I go into a room the cat is lurking somewhere.  She is forever hidden under a dresser, sitting in a bookcase, or hiding behind a curtain.  I got used to her looking at me like this constantly a long time ago.

The thing I can't figure out is how she is in all rooms at the same time.  If I am doing a load of laundry she will be in the closet behind the hamper.  Then she is under my bed when I pass through my bedroom.  When I go through the kitchen she is sitting on the counter and when I get to the basement she is hiding behind the laundry sorter.

How is this possible?!?!

I have decided that either she can either teleport or there are several identical cats inhabiting my house.

I bought a bell for the other cat who never makes any noise so that I can here is she has managed to get trapped in a closet or room and let her out.

I think I will put a bell on Watson as well so I can see if there is more than one cat.  I hope the magic cat clones can't clone the bell as well!

I'm not crazy. I think fast.

What I said out loud:  That is because he is in denial.  Do you want to go to Egypt?

Wunderkid:  What just happened there?

Me:  I said the denial thing and people always say 'denial is not just a river in Egypt' and I would like to take a cruise on the Nile and see Egypt and I think that would be a really cool thing to do with you so I asked.

Wunderkid: That happened really fast.

Me:  It would be much easier if people could just take all these leaps in my brain with me.

Cuba Parte Deux!

I just returned from a truly interesting Cuban adventure.  So much happened that I will probably be writing about it for weeks.

Despite swearing that I will never return to a country I visit until I have gone to all the rest of them I ran right back to Cuba after my first visit in February.  It is extremely beautiful with fantastic beaches, snorkeling and hiking.  The gorgeous architecture and the music, oh my gosh the music, are captivating.  All of these drew me back but the people are what made me decide Cuba is my home.

I spent a lot of time there wandering around and talking to strangers and they were AMAZING.  Everyone was friendly and funny and patient with my god awful attempts at Spanish.  It did not take me long to have a personal tour guide and chaos coordinator who took me to meet all his friends and spend time like a Cuban (outside, talking, listening to music, and sharing a little rum).  I loved it.

When I got back home, I kept in touch with a few people.  I expected that to stop after a few weeks but when neither my infatuation with the country or contact with the people waned after a few months I decided to go back.

This trip, I was extremely far off the tourist track.  I got off the plane and walked out of the customs area to hear my name shouted.  Three of my Cuban friends ran over and squished me and kissed my face and swept me up immediately into the madness.  As soon as we got to the car they passed out beers and raised a toast to my return.  They took me to someone's sister's house where there was a party and so much FOOD to welcome me.  After meeting a million people and being fed until I couldn't move we hopped in a car and headed out on a road trip.  We drove through the night.  Well, they drove while I slept in the back until the sun came up.  At dawn we arrived in the town where most of them were from and were received by their families coming out into the street to kiss my face and welcome me and make sure I wasn't hungry.

I spent the next 6ish days in this tiny town where no one spoke more than a teensy bit of English and a lot of people had never met a foreigner before.  I think that I have an easier time than a lot of people being social.  I have adopted or been adopted by a lot of people but I have never had an experience like this where an entire neighborhood took me in as their own like that.

"Sientes que esta tu casa?" I kept being asked.  Do you feel like this is your home?

I learned a ton and had a fabulous time.

I like to think I left my mark on this town as well.

Here are my top 3 fabulous phrases I used that no one had heard before and I hope will spread.

1.  Las piernas de pollos (Chicken legs)

2. Estoy sudando mis cojones apagando.  (I am sweating my balls off!)  I did have to explain several times that I know I do not have balls.

c.  Drammallama.  I always said this in English and no one knew what it actually meant but they were saying it and applying it to me when I said I couldn't dance because my legs fell off, or the bugs were trying to murder me, or I was laying on the ground insisting that I was too hot to move and someone had to put me into water.

I cannot wait to go back!

No no. I UNDERSTAND

With the powerball (?) jackpot up super high a friend asked me to give them numbers to play.

I said if they win with my numbers then I would like one quarter of the money and an elephant.

They decided to negotiate my request.

Them:  I will give you a quarter of the money and you can buy your own elephant.

Me: I will take one third of the money and you can buy me an elephant.

Them:  That is more money!

Me: Ok.  I will take one third of the money, buy my own elephant and you can buy me a pony.

Them:  What is wrong with you?

Me:  Ok.  One third of the overall jackpot.  You pay all taxes.  I will buy my own elephant and pony and you will pay for their upkeep.

Them:  HUGE SIGH.  I don't think you understand negotiations.

Me:  Ok. . .half the money post taxes and I will buy and keep up my own animals and you can pay my race entries for life.

Them:  I would rather pay for elephant upkeep.

Me: SOLD!!!

Love Hurts

In June, I had a conversation with someone at work about Kime.  They told me that they had lost their best friend 20 years ago in a truly horrific accident.  What happened was awful and the lack of justice in the aftermath was atrociously unfair to the point of being nauseating.  

This person told me that it doesn't get any better.  In 20 years, the loss can still catch you completely unaware and devastate you.  

They said that at least it gives you an appreciation of the people around you.  You know everything can be taken away at any second and you should make the most of it and appreciate all the moments you get with the people you love.

This is where I just don't get it.

I mean, the sentiment makes sense to me.  I understand the logic.  Yet my response has been completely different.  I have pushed everyone as far away as possible.  People CAN be snatched away from you at any second with no warning.  So, why take the risk of loving them?  Isolate yourself as much as possible so that it doesn't hurt when they are gone.

When I dated DB, I could not understand that need to be isolated and alone and able to do anything in life without relying on anyone else.  Now I think I have a way better understanding of the point of all of that.  Losing people sucks.

I am trying to break away from that.  There are so many people in the world that I have loved and enjoyed.  Cincinnati has provided me with friends, with a family, that I never expected and am awed, inspired and endlessly amused by.  

My new job has provided me with a whole new set of amazing people.

It is panic inducing to try and rekindle relationships or forge new ones but I am trying.  I want to believe that the good outweighs the fear of loss.  I want to believe that love is worth pain.  I don't yet but maybe I will get there.